Learning Life's Lessons
by meikouhaikitsune
Summary: Harry goes back in time... to 1934. Tom, meet Harry Potter, you're new father - er -ly figure. Incest, kinda. Harry/Tom
1. Chapter 1

Hello everyone! Yes, I've started a new story, haha. This story has a lot written for it though, so don't worry ^^.

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**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, only the plot for this story.

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Tom Marvolo Riddle, for that was the little boy's name, and he knew it well since it'd been shouted at him since he could remember, looked out of his bedroom window as the rain continued to fall.

He watched as a mother grabbed her child up off the ground to hold them as she ran for cover from the rain. He wrapped his arms around himself as his nose scrunched up. He didn't understand why he lived in an orphanage. It was quite clear that no one was going to adopt him. No one wanted him, not even the people he lived with. The sisters usually sent him off to his room or time out, leaving him alone, even though the other children were the ones at fault. Most of the time anyway, Tom was just the one who was always caught. Even when the others were caught, they never received punishment as he did. It was as if everyone hated him.

That was all right though; he hated them too. He hated them so very, very much, and they would pay.

His own mother had abandoned him, so what did it matter if he abandoned everyone else in return. No one wanted him. It was blatantly clear. He was one of very few boys who was never even considered for adoption.

Most children weren't at the orphanage for more than a month or two.

Tom, on the other hand, had been here his whole life.

His whole, miserable life surrounded by filthy humans who called him devil's spawn because he could speak to snakes. A freak because sometimes things just happened to be a little bit too coincidental for their liking.

Surrounded by the worst, he would bet, mankind had to offer. People who had power over others and were too weak to control their nature. Their sadistic, brutish, harsh nature.

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The young man sighed as he pulled his cloak's hood further, shadowing his face as he sat in The Leaky Cauldron, people watching. It was such a different time now. So many happy, carefree people who acted like nothing had ever been wrong, as if no one had died. As if hundreds hadn't died.

People did die; some of his closest friends were some of those people, people who had been loved ones; his loved ones.

Snape had been right for once; his uncanny ability to run into every situation with unprecedented odds had gotten people killed. People like Hermione and Ron. He wouldn't name anyone else; it was too hard to accept the first two, much less anyone else.

It was odd, he knew for certain that without Mrs. Weasley, he wouldn't have made it through Ron's death, nor Hermione's, even though he thought most of all she would have been the one to accuse him the most out of everyone.

She hadn't though, she'd accepted it and him, and that was something Harry knew couldn't be replaced. Every time he thought back on it, he wondered what it would have been like to have Lily, to have his own mother.

Maybe if Voldemort had had a parent, things wouldn't have turned out as they had.

He'd had the Dursley's, and no matter how bad they were, he'd never really had time to stew on things that bothered him. From Dumbledore's memories though, Tom had had time. Lots of time, time that was spent in hate-filled thoughts. Maybe it could have been different.

As the green-eyed cloaked man watched the pub, a wistful smile settled on his face as he dropped a few coins onto the table before leaving.

He couldn't just continue on like nothing was wrong though. He had a Horcrux inside him, something that could bring his nightmares back into motion. He didn't want Voldemort back, but he also didn't want to lose that piece of soul he could feel, throbbing inside him as it pulsed with his own, writhing against it. He'd had it there all of his life, he'd feel empty without it, he knew that.

He also knew that he wanted to change how things had turned out. That was the question though, had Tom been born evil or had he become such without lack of a role model or mother?

If not a mother, what difference could a father make? Harry asked himself as he left The Leaky Cauldron before apparating to Grimmauld Place. They both needed someone, and while he hated Voldemort, maybe he could prevent that. He knew, with an instinct he'd developed at the Dursley's, that Tom needed someone just as badly as Harry had needed Hermione and Ron as friends during their Hogwarts years.

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There was a soft knock on his door as Tom closed his eyes and groaned to himself quietly.

"I didn't do it, whatever the other boys told you, I've been in my room all day!" Tom told the person on the other side of the door. He sighed again after a few moments of silence, figuring the person had gone away.

"You must be really used to getting in trouble." A male voice spoke amusedly.

Tom jumped at the sound, scampering across his bed and away from the voice. "Who are you?" He asked the older man with narrowed eyes.

"I'm Harry Potter; I'm here to adopt you."

Suspicion immediately entered Tom's countenance. "Why would you want to adopt me?" He asked quietly, his eyes narrowed.

"You know, I really don't even know that myself, yet." Harry answered idly with a quizzical look on his face.

"You don't…know?" Tom repeated slowly as he looked at the awkward…teenager in front of him. "You don't even look like you're an adult! You can't adopt me."

"Hey, hey! I'll have you know I'm seventeen. In the Wizarding World I'm an adult, and since you're a wizard this rule applies to you. I can adopt you if I please."

"Wizard?"

"I know you're smarter than that, Tom, really now."

Tom's eyes only narrowed again before he nodded sharply. "I suppose."

"So, do you want to go now or stay here?"

Tom stared at Harry as if the green-eyed man had grown another head before shaking his own to clear his thoughts. "You're a wizard?"

"Wand and all," Harry answered impishly as he twirled the holly between his fingers. Tom's eyes widened marginally, and a small smile graced his features before he nodded. "All right then, grab your stuff before one of those scary ladies figure out I'm here."

"Wait, are you kidnapping me?"

"Not technically, all the paperwork and stuff is done if someone ever comes looking for you, but no one here at the moment thinks you're supposed to be here. To them you were adopted almost a week after you were born. Less problems this way."

"Magic?" _Like I'll_ _believe that, he's probably just making fun of me, just like everyone else. Is he really going to kidnap me so obviously?_ Tom thought.

"'Course." Harry answered, "Do you want me to pack your things?" _Not that it seems he has much_, was the lingering thought.

"There isn't that much…"

"I didn't ask that,"

"Yes, then."

"'Kay," Harry murmured before summoning Tom's things before shrinking them.

"You don't act like an adult," _but I've never really known any adults, and surely none like him, so it's not like I'm a fair judge._

"Well, what's an adult supposed to act like?" Harry asked quizzically, turning to face Tom with a small frown on his face.

There was silence for a moment before Tom answered: "Responsible."

"Hey now, hey now, I'm very responsible. I just prefer not to walk around like I have a stick up my arse." Harry smirked slightly at Tom's look. It looked like the young boy was warring between agitation and amusement. Agitation seemed to win out, however, as he scowled at the older man. "How old are you anyway, Tom?"

"I'm eight, I turn nine-"

"On the thirty first of December," Harry continued, grinning impishly, "I know."

"If you know my birthday, why don't you know how old I am?"

There was a longer silence as Tom's things finally settled together on the boy's bed before Harry spoke, "What's today's date?"

"July fifteenth, nineteen thirty four." Tom answered quizzically. _What is with this man? He doesn't even know the date? Is he crazy? I hope not, that would end very badly._

Harry let out a whistle as the date settled in before he gathered Tom's things and shrunk them so he could put them away. _I wonder if we'll even get along…_

"Well at least I know when my birthday is." He murmured idly.

"When?"

"Two weeks, I suppose. My birthday's on the thirty first of July."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** So...see, on St. Pat's day, I dropped my laptop (I wasn't drunk yet!) and I totally killed my hard drive (somehow) so while I'm trying to put together all I've written for this by searching through emails and IMs, it may take more than a week to update. Hopefully, I get everything set before than though, otherwise, it shall be more than a week before I update.

Anyway, a great thanks to **Sin Maxwell and Co. **for always allowing me to write during our conversations and being an endless inspiration to this story, and **Makurayami Ookami** for being my beta for most of my story. The first bit of this chapter is un-beta'd since it was a: people reviewed and now I want to update - spur of the moment type of thing.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy the latest update! (hugs Tom)

**Disclaimer: **See chapter one.

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"So wait, I have to go to a school with kids, like people from the orphanage? Not magical ones?"

"Well, yes, I don't know any Wizarding schools for children, besides, you need to know the basics for the muggle world. Even though I recognize myself as a wizard, there are always things to educate yourself in. No matter what world you're in. Anyways, their schooling applies to growing up in the magical world as well. Just think of it as theory versus practical. Hogwarts is the practical; primary school in the non-magical world is your theory. Just try it, if you don't like it, I suppose I could home school you."

"You know how to teach?"

"Well, I would hope so, I am a teacher."

"You're only seventeen though, you said as much!"

"Yeah, well, I graduated early under...unforeseen circumstances. I've been teaching since."

"How old were you?"

"Barely sixteen. I've been teaching for a while now though."

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It was an entire week at muggle primary before Tom came home with a smile on his face. Harry knew the boy didn't like his classmates, but Harry had hoped the boy would look past it so long as the school stimulated him Educationally. Apparently, he'd called it right. Tom was smiling brightly as he put his books down on the table and shot over to the fridge, grabbing a juice box before he sat down again with his books. Harry laughed at the young boy as he finished drying the dishes. He smiled at Tom as he dried his hands.

"How was your day? You seem happy."

"It was brill!" The boy said anxiously. "We learned our multiplication tables, and in reading the teacher gave me a bunch of books I've never read when she saw how far better I was at reading than the other children."

"Whatcha want for dinner, kiddo?"

"Chicken noodle soup!"

"My soup?"

"Yes, yours is way better than that canned stuff." Tom said, defending himself as he opened his books, spreading them out enthusiastically as he jumped from one subject to another. He totally ignored Harry until he deemed himself finished.

"Wohoo!" I'm going outside!" Tom called as he shot out of his seat and through the Kitchen's back door.

Harry listened for the next forty five minutes as Tom threw the ball he had out back against the house. It'd been warm out lately, especially for it being August, and Harry was happy to see the young boy enjoying himself so freely.

Tom came in soon after Harry stopped listening to the boy play, his cheeks flushed from the cold. He was also sniffling.

"It's getting cold out…" Harry said, his eyes focused on the soup. "You'll need to start wearing a coat."

"I don't have a coat," Tom said, as if it was the most normal thing you could come across.

"I don't either. We'll have to get you and I one, then."

"I don't need-"

"Please, Tom, just let me buy us coats, whether you'll wear it or not. I'll just feel better knowing you have one."

"…Fine, can I pick mine out?"

"Yea, we'll have to go within the week, before it gets any colder. How did you deal qith the cold, Tom?" Harry finished softly.

"I ignored it, and when I knew I was cold, I moved around. Eventually, I adjusted. I like the cold a lot more than the warmth. If it's too warm, I'll get sick."

"I get sick off food. My…fosters used to starve me, so my stomach gets unsettled really easily."

"You were adopted?" Tom asked in a slight awe, like he was hoping for some common ground, and not just a compassion from Harry.

The older man turned away from him though, "I was dropped on their door step when I was about a year old. They hated magic. They hated me. It's not hard to figure out where that train of thought leads. Now, go wash up while I set the table."

Tom stood quietly for a moment before he obeyed. The rest of the evening was spent in an uncomfortable silence.

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Before the week was through, the two went to get coats. Harry got a warm, black coat that fell to his knees, reminding him of Snape's robes in a way. Something that gave him a sentimental value, even though he liked the style for his own reasons and not just the memories it brought up.

Tom got a very casual jacket, like one a businessman would wear, and even though it showed Tom's taste and individualism, it saddened Harry that the boy went straight to the mature styles it had taken Harry a very long time to become accustom too.

So the months rolled on, and as it got colder and colder, Harry was eternally thankful that they'd bought coats before the snow fell. He knew Tom was happy as well, it was almost brutally cold, especially with the wind.

They fell into a quiet monotone life; they fell into it so easily that Harry was unsure of how to act around the younger male. He wanted to Tom to feel like he belonged, but the boy ignored him and basked in his solitude far to often for the two to actually get to know one another. It was more like two people living together because it suited their needs more than to live apart. Tom didn't talk to him as much as when they'd first moved in, and Harry didn't make an attempt to talk to Tom in fear of making the boy uncomfortable.

It seemed to be a catch-twenty-two. He wanted Tom to be open, accepting, and aware, but he didn't want to push whatever limits the boy had in order to get him there. So Fall went by, Tom's birthday came after Christmas went, and Harry had never seen the boy smile so widely as he did when the two of them ignored the New Year and instead celebrated Tom's birthday. Harry baked a cake, bought ice cream and many different presents for the boy. He fed Tom's want for learning, but also bought him everyday things like clothes and toys.

It was a ridiculous amount to give the boy, almost a bribe, but it worked. Maybe it was the fact that Harry had spent so much money on him, or that the older man had yet to deny him. Either way, there was a kinship there now. A cozy feeling that settled with the silences of Tom spending time in the sitting room with Harry instead of his bedroom, or helping to dry dishes or take out the trash whenever he noticed Harry doing something.

Things couldn't carry on that way forever, though, and Harry knew their obliviousness to the world outside their home would soon bring problems into their life. Nothing could be perfect, after all.

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"Tom...Tom, what's wrong? Honey, what's going on?" Harry asked the smaller boy, his words becoming frantic as Tom continued to throw things around his room, screams of rage escaping the nine-year-old.

"What happened at school, Tom? You need to tell me?" Harry pleaded desperately.

Tom turned to the older man with hate burning in his eyes, causing Harry's breath to catch shortly.

"They're vile. I hate them! I absolutely loathe them!"

"Tom, what happened? Who do you hate? Why?"

"The kids at school! They called me an evil, blood sucking, snake!"

"Why?" Harry asked as he leaned against Tom's bedroom door.

"Because I can speak to snakes and they can't."

"Oh, is that all?"

Tom turned to look at him with his eyes wide and his posture tense, as if he was waiting for Harry's next words to hurt him as much as the boys' at school had.

"Do you like snakes, Tom?"

"Maybe..."

"We could get one if you want...not a dangerous one though, no nasty venom's. Even though we can talk to snakes we can't control their venoms."

It took a moment before Harry's words dawned on the little boy. By that time, Tom was looking at Harry in wonder. "You can speak to snakes too?"

Harry answered him in the language only the two of them understood: "_Of course, and you don't need to be ashamed of it, Tom. You're so much more than they'll ever be. They only say things like that to hurt you, to hinder you, and hope you lose your way. Don't pay them any mind. They're not worth it, kiddo._" Harry said as he walked over to the younger boy and ruffled his hair fondly. "I'm not looking forward to cleaning your room any time soon, so what say you we go get something to eat and then go find a pet for you?"

Tom regarded him for a moment, mistrust entering his eyes as he nodded unsurely.

Harry smiled at him encouragingly before he spoke quietly, "Well, then. If we're going to go out you may want to go put on some more appropriate clothing."

"Oh, we're going to Diagon Alley?" Tom asked with a slight exuberance and excitement entering him. Harry noticed the change and promised himself that he would break Tom of that prejudice as he smiled and shrugged, shooing the boy off.

Harry decided, by the time Tom was ready to go that they would walk to the Alley since it was such a nice day. Both he and Tom needed fresh air and a good walk to clear their minds, especially after Tom's little episode today.

They spent the walk in an awkward silence, Harry demanding to hold Tom's hand so that nothing would happen to the younger boy. He didn't think the magical world was a good idea, now that he thought about it. Tom was nine, which meant that it was 1934. Grindlewald was during this time, if he remembered correctly. He didn't want to introduce Tom to that yet. Besides, if they were in the magical world any sooner than they needed to be, Tom would ask after a wand and Harry didn't want to get him one yet.

Instead he led them to a large muggle pet store, a few miles from their flat in a shopping strip Tom and he were familiar with.

"I thought you said we could go into the Wizarding world," Tom muttered childishly.

"I never said anything of the sort. I just smiled, not my fault you took it the wrong way."

Tom pouted with a thunderous expression taking over his face as he stopped following Harry. The older man continuing on the sidewalk until he realized Tom's magic hadn't continued on after him. He turned to see the boy glaring daggers at him. He made his way back, stealing himself.

"You know what, Tom. Let me say this now: muggles are not bad. Just because we're wizards, doesn't mean we're better than them or that because they're muggles they're better than us. Get those thoughts out of your head now, or you're going to be in for a lot of punishments. Are we clear?"

"Yes," Tom spat grudgingly.

"You don't have to like them over night, but you will stop this childish behavior, are we understood?"

"I said yes."

"Yes, well, for your hope, you'd better start trying to get used to the idea now. If I can't take you places, because there will be muggles there, I'll just leave you at home, locked in your room. Or, I'll hire a muggle to sit you. If that happens, you'd better damn well know if you terrorize them, you'd be getting spanked." Harry said, dressing the boy down as he stared Tom in the eyes, watching the boy's confidence in his opinion waver. "I won't stand for it; some of my best friends are muggles, or muggleborn."

"You don't have any friends!" Tom shouted out.

"I don't, do I? What do you think I do while you're at school? Sit home and wait around for you. No, I visit my friends in muggle London, invite them over, play cards, go to the cinema, sometimes we even go out to places you've never…

"You'd choose a muggle over me?" Tom snapped.

It was the wrong thing to say, and he realized that when he felt the pain lace up his check before it started to burn softly.

Tom felt tears well up in his eyes as he stared up at Harry, a few people watching them. One lady had a hand over her mouth as she watched the scene continue on.

"You hit me." Tom said. His voice was soft as he choked slightly over the words.

Harry sighed heavily as he clenched his fist together. "I won't let you talk like that."

"You said I could trust you."

"I hope that you can," Harry murmured miserably, "Tom, but I have rules. There are things that I say that hurt you, yeah?"

Tom nodded meekly as he laid a cool hand on his cheek. Harry grimaced as he watched the boy, guilt eating at his stomach.

"Well, it goes both ways, you've just said something that hurt me, badly."

"So you hurt me back? Are you going to hit me every time your temper goes off?" Tom taunted.

"No. You should be hitting me, Tom, I shouldn't have laid a hand on you. I'll never lay a hand on you again, not like that." Harry said, his voice laced with conviction, and not just to forgive himself for what he'd done, but to remind himself that no matter what Voldemort had done. Tom didn't deserve to be treated like a punching bag.

"Oh, you have a conscious now."

"Tom," Harry warned, almost pleaded for the boy to drop the subject. "Let's just go. I know the perfect snake."

"Oh, so you're actually going to get a snake still?"

"Yeah, I told you I would."

"I made you mad."

"Not hard to do."

"Ohhh," Tom murmured quietly, grabbing Harry's hand with his own small one before quietly following the older man the rest of the way to the pet shop. A young woman greeted them, eyeing Harry up before smiling lasciviously at him as she spoke.

"Hullo," Harry greeted in turn, completely oblivious of the woman's behavior as he spoke, "I'm wondering if you guys carry ball pythons?" He looked down; his eyebrows furrowing as Tom buried his face against his hip, completely missing the dark look he'd give the worker. "Tom,"

"I feel tired."

"Do you want me to carry you?" Harry asked quietly, still feeling guilty for slapping the young boy. He felt completely ashamed, he'd never laid his hand on anyone like that before, and he didn't want to start now.

The woman watched the exchanged, making the comment, "Oh, you're little brother is so adorable."

Harry turned to her with an annoyed look that made the sales girl falter, "He's my son, I think I'll find our pet on my own though," he said, brushing past the girl once he'd picked Tom up and cradled the boy against his hip, Tom burying his face against Harry's neck until they'd passed the girl. Then, he lifted his head to stick his tongue out at her before cuddling back against Harry, liking the cool fabric of Harry's soft jacket against his flaming skin.

"Hey, Tom, look at that..." Harry murmured in wonder, staring at all the aquatic creatures as Harry walked laxidasically down the aisles, not in any rush to break the small comfort of holding Tom and the younger boy actually seeking out touch from him. Harry smiled at Tom's small gasp of astonishment, knowing the boy hadn't meant it to be heard. They looked at beautiful birds next; there were ones that talked, ones that sang really high, and others that just looked really pretty. Harry saw Tom try to pull one's feathers, but by that time they were coming to the reptiles, so he didn't scold the boy.

There were three ball pythons, two older ones, and a hatchling. Harry decided he'd get the youngest, the smallest. He didn't want Tom to get attached to something that could die soon. After standing there long enough, Tom and him lowly whispering back and forth with the snake, another sales representative greeted them.

Harry made it blatantly clear that all he wanted was the young ball python, and some mice to feed it. When questioned about a cage, he said he already had one, giving Tom a silencing look.

They didn't even pretend to pay attention to the sales associates once they'd purchased the snake and mice. Harry carrying the mice in a box with holes while Tom held the snake by hand, the small foot long snake curling around his wrist as it hissed at Tom almost happily.

Once they were out of the store the two wizards began laughing before they began talking to the snake once out of earshot of muggles.

"Hey, Harry, who was the first parselmouth?"

"Salazar Slytherin."

"I'm going to name him Salazar!" Tom said excitedly, allowing the snake to move up his arm and under his robes, which seemed to look like a coat, now that Tom thought about it. He looked like a little kid trying to mimic Harry. The older man was wearing a black coat that fell to his knees, and even though Tom's robes were a tad bit different from the jacket, they didn't look out of place in the situation.

Tom beamed up at him, the child radiating happiness as he hissed to Salazar, the snake sticking out slightly from the neck of Tom's robes, hissing against the boy's ear in answer to anything they talked about. The scene was contagious, and Harry smiled along with Tom, catching up with the boy to hold his hand, swinging them back and forth slightly, laughing and smiling as he listened to Tom and Salazar's conversations on the way home.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** For some reason, this took a while to write, even though two-thirds of it has been written for months now. Anyway, even though it's technically thirty minutes into Monday, let's just pretend it's still Sunday, and I've met the goal I set for myself. My dad's been in the hospital this past week, so I think that's what** killed, burned and then buried my muse.**

Thanks to **Makurayami Ookami** for beta-ing the second half of this!

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Things settled so comfortably, it was almost June by the time Harry realized time had passed. He didn't realize how much Salazar had grown, and he sure didn't realize how close he and Tom were getting until he blinked a few times, staring at the book laying across the arm of the couch.

Tom was laid across his legs with his head on a pillow that was resting on Harry's thigh. His hand was buried in Tom's hair while the other was resting on the side of the couch, holding the book balanced.

He looked to his left, searching for the clock that was resting on the bookcase across the room. He realized how late it was before he squinted to check the date. Was it really? No wonder Tom wasn't in bed yet, the boy was out of school for the summer.

He sighed as he dropped the book quietly onto the floor before using his free hand to rub his face roughly. He didn't realize whether it was his life going too fast, or going too slow, that he lost the space of time.

Things just...got comfortable, and he went with the flow, and now...now it was just a block of memories that he knew were happy and monotonous. Perhaps he needed someone after his life to make it interesting now?

He remembered Tom and Salazar being in the sitting room for hours in the evening once his homework was done, and dinner was through, talking.

Tom slowly starting to intrude into his personal space: helping in the kitchen, sitting with Harry while he left Salazar to his own devices, asking Harry to 'read to him because he's not that proficient at reading,' and Tom asking Harry if they could have a story night (which became many consecutive story nights, once Tom learned the wonders of warm, breathing, pillows).

That's how he ended up with Tom asleep over his lap though. The boy looking peaceful and open as he rested against Harry's lap, trust practically radiating from the boy, but that wasn't right because one thing Harry did know was that Tom didn't trust him. Well, at least not while he was awake.

Especially when he was awake and Harry had his wand out. It was like every time the older man used magic, Tom expected him to torment him with it. To tease him, or maybe abuse him with it.

One thing he knew Tom knew for certain, though, was that Harry would never raise a hand to him again. Tom used that to his advantage though. He knew Harry knew he was partially afraid of his magic, he also knew that Tom used his first and only physical confrontation against him. He really couldn't be bothered though.

He didn't want to scare Tom, not in any way. He never wanted the little, mostly innocent, boy to have the type of childhood he did.

He didn't want Tom to be afraid of other children, he didn't want him to be Hunted because he was an outcast with the other children, he didn't want Tom to have the same experiences that defined Voldemort.

He also didn't want to be a cause of those experiences. So with every push or stealthy nudge Tom seemed to think Harry didn't notice; the older man slowly started unlocking his own doors and windows, letting Tom in. Marveling at the way the young man reacted to having someone to talk to; someone who looked at him as if he was an adult. Only looking after him, never abusing his power to order him around or neglect him.

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It wasn't more than a month into Tom's break that the boy finally, truly relaxed around him. He'd tell Harry about things the older man never even thought to ask about; mostly because he was sure he wouldn't get an answer.

Tom loved the rain, he loved to be curled up on one of the window panes or in bed, listening or watching it as he enjoyed the warm comfort of being inside. He liked to run in the rain too though, when the children at the orphanage locked him outside in the rain, especially during the warm springs, he'd spend his time outside playing in the rain. He'd hide in the trees and spin in circles, enjoying the rain on his skin, especially when his magic wasn't completely hidden. The rain would feel like it was caressing not only his skin but his magic, washing away the bad memories and the stuffed feeling he had when he didn't use his magic often enough.

Or so he'd told Salazar one evening, and he must have meant for Harry to hear as well, since he was sitting against the older man's side while Harry read a book and he spoke with Salazar.

Less and less, things appeared in their talks that were dead zones, as Harry had dubbed them; since everything seemed to stop once the topic was brought up, Tom would shut up and stay quiet if the topic was off limits, and Harry, well, he didn't handle it much better.

So they spend their nights of Tom's break talking in the sitting room, playing ball in the back yard, and trying to find another snake for Salazar since he complained about being lonely, but Tom thought that was just a plan to gain the two wizards' attention since Salazar didn't like any other snake. Harry was starting to agree.

Another thing that had put him on Tom's good side was allowing the boy to read his old school books, with the promise that he wouldn't do any magic without Harry around, and certainly not without a wand, since Harry didn't even want to open that book just quite yet.

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Harry lay on the couch in the living room, staring off into space. He'd finally gotten Tom into the bathtub. It usually wasn't this difficult. Tom was really good about getting clean; the kid was almost obsessed about it, actually. Today, though, it'd taken almost an hour just to get him in the bathroom, let alone in the water. Harry sighed as he listened, trying to tell whether or not the ten-year-old was actually washing himself and not just sitting there until the water chilled. He groaned when he heard nothing, perfect silence, not even the slosh or splash of water disrupted the silence. He forced himself off the couch and over to the bathroom door. He knocked softly, knowing Tom could hear him: "Kiddo, are you even taking a bath in there? I can't hear you."

"I'm not taking a bath! I told you. I'm just going to sit here until you stop being stubborn!"

Harry blinked and then blinked again just to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. Him being stubborn? No, it was definitely the other way around, today anyway.

"Well, then, if you're not going to wash up, I am. I'm coming in." Harry could have sworn that at first glance Tom was smirking and it took Harry only a second to realize he'd been had. He rolled his eyes but moved over to where the tub was. He took his shirt off on the way so he wouldn't get it wet, knowing how childish the young boy could be when he wasn't hiding.

Tom's eyes widened slightly before he snapped his gaze down to the water, blushing slightly. He handed Harry the soap when the older man put his hand out, pointing at the substance. The next few minutes were spent in an awkward silence - for Tom - and a sense of surrealness for Harry. The bath was through after Harry washed Tom's hair, even going so far as to tilt Tom's head back as he scooped water up to wash away the suds in the younger boy's hair.

"All right, I'm going back in the other room to make something to eat, what do you want?" Harry asked as he stood, wiping his wet hands on his jeans.

Tom shrugged and Harry sighed again, something the younger man had noticed his guardian did a lot, before leaving the room, shutting the door behind him.

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Tom appeared in the kitchen a few minutes later, dressed in his pajamas with the towel he had to used to dry himself hanging around his neck, his hair mused from when he tried drying it with a towel.

Harry was at the stove, water boiling as he cut up tomatoes, garlic, and basil with a bottle of olive oil sitting off to the side.

Once everything was cut, Harry grabbed another, smaller, pan and filled it with water, setting it to boil as he pulled out a container of cocoa powder before reaching in the ice box to get a milk bottle. Tom smiled slightly as he saw; moving to sit at the small table Harry and he ate at. He sat for a while watching the older man prepare their hot chocolate. Once Harry had set the vegetables on the fire, and added the pasta to the boiling water, he made the two cups of hot chocolate before sitting with Tom.

Harry made a sound of pleasure once he'd given Tom his cup of cocoa before sipping his own, his eyes closing in bliss.

"How was your day at school?" Harry murmured as he drew his finger on the top of his cocoa, through the foam.

"It was okay, the other kids haven't messed me with much since you went to school last week and yelled at the principal...and then the teachers, you even yelled at their parents." Tom whined slightly, his nose scrunching up, "It was kind of embarrassing now that I think back... I've made a friend though...and then, there's this girl who keeps sending me letters. It's...gross."

Harry laughed lightly at the face Tom made, figuring the boy wasn't into girls yet; he probably had a few years to go. "Oh? What do you think will happen for Valentine's Day? Will you be bringing me home chocolate from all of your admirers, Tom?"

The boy flushed scarlet as he took a sip of his cocoa before answering: "No,"

"Aww, why not?" Harry asked, slightly disappointed.

"Because I'll buy it for you. Valentine's day is special...it wouldn't be fair to give you someone else's chocolate. I should give you mine."

Harry's eyes narrowed slightly at the boy, glad that Tom's focus was on his hot chocolate and not on himself. He really hoped this wasn't going where he thought it was.

"Hmm, you're so good to me, Tom." Harry said softly, taking a sip of cocoa before he continued, "Work was okay, I guess. Some idiot wanted me to ward his house, but, of course, he didn't know exactly what he was warding against. He just told me: Make it safe. When I asked him from what, he shrugged and walked away. Very frustrating day. Dealing with idiots is getting old."

"Is that why you've been so sad lately?"

Harry looked up, a frown marring his face as his eyebrows drew together, "Sad? I haven't been sad."

"You're sighing all the time and all you seem to do is sleep."

"Oh, Tom, I'm not sad, I'm stressed. Between work and worrying about you and what we're going to do next year, I have a lot on my mind."

"What do you mean next year?"

"Well, you turn eleven in December, but I want to see if Dumbledore will allow you to attend early in exchange for me being the next Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"They won't have a teacher next year? Why not?"

Harry bit his lip, trying to explain to Tom how he knew without mentioning how he knew. "Well, I'm friends with a teacher there now; they told me the man would be leaving this year."

"Oh, so wait? I'll get to go to Hogwarts early?" Tom asked, an eagerness entering his countenance that not many ever saw.

"Oh, definitely, I bet you'll be the youngest to attend."

"When do I get my wand?!"

"Well, since today starts the weekend, why not tomorrow. I don't have anything to do Saturday, so it should be fine."

"You never have anything to do,"

"Too true," Harry answered with a lazy grin.

Harry got up after a few minutes of silence, Tom following him. Harry smothered the fire with a flick of his wand before opening the lid on the vegetables, the succulent smell becoming more pronounced as steam rose out of the pan. He grabbed the pot of noodles, and drained the water, barely missing Tom as the younger man reached up to get two plates. As Harry was getting the silverware ready, Tom made them both plates with spaghetti, waiting for Harry to mix the olive oil and vegetables. He put mixture on both plates before he took them to the table, Harry following him with silverware, napkins and cheese.

Once they both had their own silverware, they dug in. Harry slurped as he sucked the spaghetti noodles, oil splashing his face. Tom, the complete opposite, twirled his spaghetti around his fork neatly before he ate it. It was a very homey, comfortable scene and Harry smiled as he watched Tom eat, the younger man focused on his food as he slouched slightly, something he didn't around anyone but Harry.

Tom finished first, waiting for Harry to finish as they sat in a comfortable silence, when neither plate had any food left they stood. Harry took the plates into the kitchen, running water over them as he heard Tom in the other room, moving the pillows and blankets around on 'their' couch.

Once he was finished with the dishes, he moved to the couch, lying down with his back propped up against the armrest. Tom had just picked up the small case sitting on the book shelf. He smiled as he walked over to the couch, wrapping one of the blankets around himself before he laid down on Harry, curling up against the older.

"What story did you record today?" Tom asked, the word 'record' sounding less and less foreign on the boy's tongue the more he used it. Almost as if Tom actually knew what the words meant, instead of just copying the word from Harry's vocabulary.

Every since he'd left his recorder out after one day and Tom had had started fiddling with the gadget, it stopped being used for its original purpose, mostly.

He'd originally bought it to record his night mares, hoping it help him with them. After they stopped bothering him, he used it for work.

Once Tom had figured out what it did, however, and 'recorded' himself sating the most meaningless of things, Harry had had an idea. He began by recording himself telling stories while he began to settle down. Once his days became less chaotic, he began recording himself reading books.

Tom founds it fascinating and Harry almost regretted leaving it out. Tom had almost demanded a story night, which became consecutive stories nights.

Harry didn't mind though. Some nights he would catch up on sleep, answer Tom's questions about the story, or work on some of his clients' folders for his warding.

Then there were nights like tonight, when he just sat and though. He felt Tom smile against his chest and he let a hand begin running through the smaller male's hair as he tuned the recording out and returned to his thoughts.

It wasn't until Tom's breathing had evened out and the room was dark that Harry realized what time it was, the recorder having shut off soon after the recording ran out. He sighed, running a hand over his face as he blinked before using his other hand to rub Tom's back.

"C'mon, love; it's time to go to bed." Harry murmured softly, rubbing a little more firmly to awaken the boy, "C'mon, Tom, it's time to get you in bed, you can go right back to sleep."

Tom murmured something unintelligible before he snuggled further against the older man, his fist clenching against Harry's chest. When Harry's movements didn't stop, Tom almost snarled as he pushed himself off Harry, standing up unsteadily.

"Fine,"

"I'll be in after I use the loo."

Tom grumbled but made his way towards the hallway as Harry headed to the bathroom, grabbing his shirt and putting it back on before he did his business and washed his hands.

As he was making his way to Tom's room, he saw his door open, his face scrunching up as he made his way into his room.

He almost groaned in frustration as he saw Tom curled up on his bed, his face buried in the pillow Harry always slept on. Why was the boy being so difficult today?

He moved to the bed and shook the boy gently, "C'mon, Tom, you need to go sleep in your bed."

"No." It was solid and precise. Tom was awake, Harry realized, he hadn't wandered in here half-asleep.

"Why are you being so difficult today?"

Tom didn't answer so Harry closed his eyes for a moment, breathing to calm himself before he shucked off his jeans and grabbed a pair of pajamas. He changed before going to leave.

"Where are you going?" Tom asked, his voice shaking minutely.

"To sleep on the couch."

"No, sleep with me,"

"Tom, that's not appropriate. You need to sleep by yourself."

"But you stop the nightmares."

Harry stopped himself before he sighed, again, and felt his features soften slightly and his heart beat softer. He understood that all too well, but wait: "Tom, what type of nightmares are you having?"

Harry sat on the bed as Tom sat up slightly, clutching Harry's pillow to his chest.

"I was walking home from school and I...I saw someone die." Tom said, whispering the last part as if his nightmares were suddenly there with him. "This...couple, I guess, were walking on their own and...they were mugged, and then one of them died. Whenever I get to sleep now...I see you dying, and...it terrifies me, because when I wake up, I have to look for you."

Harry waved his hand and the room was shrouded in darkness as he climbed fully into bed and under the covers, Tom immediately navigating to his side.

"Listen to me, Tom, and remember this. I've never lied to you before, have I?"

Tom shook his head but then answered vocally, "No."

"No one can hurt me, no one will kill me. The only person, who can hurt me, is you. Are you doing to hurt me?"

"No." Tom murmured quietly.

"Then I'm perfectly fine. Now, relax, I'll be here when you wake up. I'll keep your nightmares at bay, love."

Harry stayed awake longer than usually that night, his mind on Tom and how the death was going to affect the boy. Would it be different now that he had someone like Harry? Would Tom close up soon? Will it warp him? Was this a reason he became Voldemort? Because he hadn't been protected from the darkness in the world at such a young age?

When he woke, he knew Tom was already awake. He heard the boy's breathing quicken and he turned to see the boy pretending to be asleep, he smiled, figuring that if Tom wanted to pretend to be asleep, Harry would go back to sleep. He could use a few more hours; he'd been up a lot later than usual last night. He closed his eyes again, grinning evilly as he moved his arm, wrapping it around Tom and pulling the boy towards him before sighing quietly and burying his face in Tom's hair.

The boy froze for a moment before his arm hesitantly reached up, then Harry felt his hand on his chest, his fingers clutching Harry's shirt as Tom nuzzled closer, a quiet sigh escaping him. Harry let his breathing even out and before he knew it he was a sleep, Tom followed soon after in the warm comfort of the older man's arms.


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks to **Makurayami Ookami** for beta-ing this!

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"Where are we going?"

Harry looked over at Tom, the boy looking absolutely annoyed as he tried not to trip on the slightly too large cloak. Harry hadn't been able to find anything smaller, though, and they needed to go to the Alley's to get some shopping done, especially if he was going to have a little wizard running around. They also needed food. Besides, he'd promised Tom he'd get him his wand.

"We're going to Diagon Alley, I promised you a wand last night, or don't you remember?"

Tom's entire face lit up even though he tried to hide the emotions shortly after. Harry smiled morosely as he slung an arm around the boy's shoulders and mussed his hair up.

"Lighten up, Tom, it'll be fun!"

The boy gave him a look, as if to ask if he was joking, but Harry could see the hesitance there.

The two traveled towards the Leaky Cauldron, Harry leading Tom in like Hagrid had once done for him. Harry ignored the pub altogether though, his focus on the wall that led to Diagon Alley.

"Tom, watch this," Harry murmured excitedly, tapping the bricks with his wand. The bricks began folding in on themselves, opening an archway into the alley. "If you ever want to come here by yourself, just remember that, all right."

"I'm not irresponsible,"

"I know you're not, Tom, it's just important for me to tell you these things. It'll be easier for both of us in the future." The two began their walk into the alley, passing by stores as the crowds pushed them to and from each other, "Stay close, Tom, I don't want you getting lost. When I was just a little older than you are now, I took my first trip here with a friend. I hadn't even known I was a wizard until he showed up on my doorstep. I was happy, ecstatic that I wouldn't have to live with my muggle relatives anymore. They didn't understand me at all. I'm kind of thinking that's how it was at the orphanage?" Harry half questioned as he turned his gaze to Tom.

The boy looked away but nodded. Harry set his hand on top of the boy's head as he forced them to a stop.

"Nothing that happened at that Merlin-awful place will ever make me dislike you, Tom. Just like my time at my relatives won't change your opinion on me. We have each other now; you're never going back again."

"Don't make promises you can't keep." Tom spat before he took off.

Harry practically smacked himself. Tom Riddle and emotions of the horrible past-present didn't mix. Merlin, he needed to stop being such a Gryffindor when dealing with Slytherin's own!

He took off after the boy, pushing past people roughly, as he started to panic. He saw a flicker of the cloak he'd loaned to Tom turn the corner into Knockturn alley and he swore, speeding up as he rushed towards the Alley's entrance.

As he turned the corner into the alley, he ran right into someone, knocking them over. They swore at him as they stayed to the ground, but Harry kept running, his heart almost beating out of his chest when he heard Tom shout.

As he turned on to the main part of the Alley, he saw Tom being held a few inches off the ground by a man that was at least half as big Hagrid. Harry's anger roared to life anger that resembled his hatred for Bellatrix that night in the Department of Mysteries. Before he could fully comprehend what he was doing, he had his wand arm stretched out, his wand glowing a sickly reddish green as he warred for a few seconds between common sense and anger: "_Sectumsempra_!" He bellowed. He wasn't worried in the least about hitting Tom. The boy's body wasn't visible at all unless you looked from the side.

"You foul, loathsome barbarian! Get your hands off him!" Harry screamed, continuing to charge forward, he grabbed the man by the back of his robes and pulled as hard as he could, kicking one of the man's knees. He watched the man go down with a sense of smugness. He practically manhandled Tom away from the wall, shoving the boy behind him as he pointed his wand at the man on the floor in front of them.

Harry could feel Tom's hands clenching his robes and he let his arm to reach and cradle the boy to his back, Tom burying his face in the small of Harry's back.

Harry took a few slow steps back as the man stood, he had to be at least of a foot taller than himself, which didn't intimidate Harry all that much, he was too pissed.

"Do you know who I am, boy!? I'm ap-"

"You're a buffoon who better keep his hands to himself before I cut them off!" Harry snarled, pulling Tom closer to him as he raised his wand to the man.

"My lord doesn't take kindly to open disobedience."

"You can tell Grindelwald to fuck off!" Harry told the man, his body tense and waiting for the oversized man's reaction.

The man across from them flushed in anger, bodily charging Harry, as if he wasn't holding a wand in one hand. Harry reacted before he thought, instinct kicking in: "Crucio!" He whispered fiercely. Tom's grip let up as he peaked around Harry's waist to stare at the twitching body on the cobblestone street.

Harry finally stopped when he felt Tom pulling on his robe. "We need to leave, Harry, you know that's illegal!"

Harry nodded, pulling away from Tom to move towards the man lying against the ground. He brought his leg back before putting as much force as he could into a kick, his foot connecting with the man's head; a sickening snap sounding resounding in the alley.

Then Harry's anger left him and he rushed towards Tom,

"Don't fight me," he murmured, pulling the boy up and then swinging him around his waist so Tom was rested on his back before he took off, running from the alley as quickly and unnoticeably as possible.

Harry could feel Tom's breath against his neck as he moved, the feeling sending a shudder up his spine.

He started slowing as he reached a small side alley before Ollivander's Wand shop, slowly and carefully letting Tom down before he leaned against an alley wall to catch his breath.

"Questions...yes?" Harry panted out breathlessly.

Tom nodded and Harry nodded as well, taking a huge gasp of air.

"I'll answer them all when we get home." Harry murmured. He took a tight hold of Tom, actually picking the boy up and cradling him against his side as he made his way into Ollivander's shop.

The man appeared moments after, looking at the two of them like he wasn't quite sure of what he was seeing.

"Well, hello there, welcome, how may I help you today?" Ollivander finally got around to asking.

"Phoenix feather core –from a phoenix named Fawkes-, thirteen and a half inches long, yew." Harry said quickly.

Ollivander almost looked as if he wanted to protest before he got up to retrieve the item, making a move to hand it to Harry.

"No, I've gotten the brother wand, that's his wand." Harry replied, tilting his head to the side, where Tom had his head resting on Harry's shoulder as his arms hung around the older man's neck. He allowed one hand to hesitantly reach out though, as he took the wand carefully.

The wand recognized its owner at once, just as Harry knew it would.

Tom's mouth opened slightly as he felt the magic flood him. It was so much more intense, so much more perfect than anything he'd ever connected to magic before he'd touched the wand in his hand. Before, it had been small bursts of warmth, a giddy feeling before his wish was granted. This Tom had no words for, his entire body felt alive and he could feel a melody beating in his blood, almost like a bird's song.

A phoenix, it was a bird. He could hear a phoenix singing, but it wasn't a phoenix, it was his magic, and Tom flushed slightly as he felt it roar inside of him.

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	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Hullo! Happy weekend/Easter.

Thanks for all the wonderful comments on my question/note thing. I've changed chapter three, except for one thing that I added that's pretty modern, but only because I can actually use it for the plot! xD Please don't let it bug you more than a passing annoyance. It's not because I couldn't think up how to fix it, I just thought about something while at work and the idea stuck with me. Anyway, edited chapter, and new chapter.

Enjoy your week and this chapter, hopefully it makes someone's day!

**This is mostly un-beta'd. About 1,500 out of the 2000-something words were written within the hour before this was posted, so yeah, no beta. Usually my beta's are just muses. **

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The look on Tom's face reminded Harry of the first time he'd felt his wand; how majestic it had been, and how mournful he had been every time the Dursley's demanded he hand it over or lock it up. It calmed him somewhat; seeing Tom so serene and yet awe-filled all at once. He smiled slightly at the scene before he came back to himself and paid Ollivander, ignoring the ancient wizard's look of suspicion.

"Come on, Tom, you ready to go?"

"Can we get ice cream or candy before we go home?"

"Sure, why not." Harry murmured. He took Tom's hand as the two left the store. Harry led them both to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. He held tight to Tom's hand, ignoring the looks he got from some of the Wizards, immediately identifying them as threats in his mind. He tried to wrap his magic around himself, pulling it tight so it wasn't as obvious to feel as it had been. He wanted to attract the least amount of attention as possible right now; he didn't want people to track him because his magic pulsed like a beacon of hope compared to everyone else's dim light.

As they walked into the ice cream shop, he felt a sense of dread. He wanted Tom to experience magic like he had never had the chance to, but with the war between Grindelwald, and, eventually, Dumbledore, it was almost impossible. There was danger in the magical world and in the muggle world. He was prone to danger, Tom caused danger.

It was going to be a very, very long, perhaps agonizing, lesson in life for them both.

He paid the lady behind the counter for Tom's ice cream, watching the boy eat it as they both sat at a table by a window that over looked the alley. Tom was quiet, but he clearly radiated happiness as he held his wand in one hand and his ice cream cone in the other.

Harry, on the other hand, was thinking. He was…furious and scared and hate-filled. It was people like the man who'd attacked Tom that brought out the worst in him. People like Voldemort who hurt innocents, children; the defenseless.

He'd never felt this much…disgust and hatred for someone since before he'd conquered, and killed, Voldemort. It scared him, but he liked it, he knew that with his anger he could protect himself and Tom. One the other side of this double-edged knife, the hate and easy ability it gave him to kill would turn him into one of the people he was protecting himself from.

"You ready to go home?" Harry asked, his voice shaking slightly as he forced a smile for Tom, watching the boy like the rest of the ice cream off his fingers with a look of seriousness that made the scene look anything but natural.

Tom turned to look at him and nodded, a small smirk on his face as both hands appeared on the table top and he wiped them with a napkin, Harry saw the tiredness in his face though. He was happy for his wand, and for easily having got Harry to get him ice cream, but he still looked shaken.

"Yes," Tom answered quietly, in total contrast with the exuberance he was mainly giving off.

Harry thought that he must have been happy for the reprieve of leaving the alley after earlier in Knockturn Alley. Tom was such a good liar though, even to himself.

"All right then, we'll take the short way," Harry decided aloud as they left the parlour. "May I have your hand?" Harry murmured, pulling Tom firmly against him in a hug as they disappeared with a crack. His mind still focused on the event earlier in Knockturn alley, and the three men wearing grey cloaks who'd been staring at them since they'd entered the ice cream parlour.

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He must have been more shaken and unfocused than he thought, because when he apparated them into their sitting room, he ended up apparating them onto one of the glass coffee tables which promptly shattered under their weight, Tom giving a yelp as he landed on a long piece of upturned glass that dug into his hand.

Harry, a little more experienced with odd situations than Tom, was able to stumble away from the mess before collapsing onto his arse with a hissed release of breath. He heard sobbing and it broke him from his daze as he shot up, staring around the room wildly, until he realized what had happened. He saw Tom as the boy dry sobbed, his breathing harsh; it almost seemed like he was having a panic attack. Then, he saw the blood falling from Tom's hand where a piece of glass had embedded itself. The young boy had his arm clutched to his chest, clearly freaking out. It seemed Tom couldn't decide on whether he should pull the glass out or just try to breathe through the mind-consuming pain that kept shooting through his hand and up his arm.

As Harry approached the young boy, he realized Tom was repeating the words 'dad' and 'Harry' like they were a saving litany. Harry felt his heart clench as he was finally in touching distance of Tom. His wand out, he vanished all of the glass and healed the wound with a whispered _Eskipy_. He pulled Tom into his lap and hugged the boy to him.

"Shush, Tom, calm down now, it's all right. I'm here. Everything's fine, it was just an accident. No more pain," Harry murmured quietly to the boy, rubbing his hands up and down his back soothingly.

That didn't seem to help the boy though. The more soothing Harry became, the more Tom freaked out. The boy seemed to realize that even though Harry hadn't meant to, he'd hurt him. Also, though, that instead of getting mad or detached, as he was wont to do, he called for Harry. Called him 'Dad,' instead of biting his lip and waiting through it; had he really changed so much since he'd left the orphanage? Tom thought to himself, curling up and ignoring the older man until Harry gave a frustrated sigh and turned away from him.

Once he heard Harry banging away in the kitchen, he stood, looking down at himself. It felt odd though, like he was looking at something that wasn't really there, and remembering something that hadn't quite happened. It did though. He remembered the pain. He remembered the desperation, how could he not? It was mere moments ago.

A stupid mistake, that's all it was. It was a mistake to call him dad, just like Harry had made the mistake of landing them on the table in his anxiety from earlier. He'd tried to stay strong for him, Tom could see that in the way Harry had taken him for ice cream, trying to pretend nothing had happened, ignoring awkward silences and refusing to bring up the subject. Even when they were at home now, and his questions were supposed to be answered. Perhaps they were just words to Harry though? Words to console him for how even though Tom would hold him to them later and ask questions about the alley encounter. Stupid words that hurt, a hurt neither he nor Harry knew how to deal with. Things had been...far more adequate than the orphanage had ever been. He'd done exactly what he thought he could never do. He'd gotten comfortable. Not only that, but he'd gotten comfortable with someone he liked.

Harry wasn't one of the girls at the orphanage though, was he? He wasn't going to throw rocks at Tom for being nice, or trying to impress him. He wasn't going to lock Tom in a shed, hide his things or have the other children beat him up.

Harry could leave him though.

Tom didn't believe in love, not the one from a mother, or father, to a son. So far, he didn't believe it was better to love and lose either. He'd rather have neither. It only made life harder, and it hurt, hurt so bad that sometimes it was hard to breathe. He closed his eyes tightly before he sighed, letting his body relax. He slid his hand into his pocket to feel his wand, feeling the magic welcome him back with the simple touch. He smiled softly, hearing his wand, before he left the room quietly. He needed a shower and sleep. He needed to think.

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Harry, on the other hand, didn't know what he was doing as he opened and slammed the cabinets. He was...furious with himself, again. Why was it that Tom brought out the best and worst of him at the same time? He wanted to be there for the boy, to keep him safe, to love him – if that were possible. There was more though. He didn't want Tom to hurt, ever, and he felt weak when he did. Especially, when it was his fault; he should have known better, should have known to calm his nerves before he'd apparated. What if he'd splinched them!? He'd never have forgiven himself. Never. He couldn't stand hurting Tom; it was like...Hurting Hermione or Ron... It was like hurting himself.

The thought scared Harry more and more each time he had it.

He didn't hate Tom anymore, couldn't hate him now that he knew the boy before the man. Tom was…fragile, he was like Harry in so many ways; so many frighteningly similar ways.

Now that he thought about it, had he ever hated Tom at all? The Tom here anyway…No, the diary Tom had inspired fear in him, and a need to survive and protect, but he'd never hated him. After sixth year, he could never connect Tom and Voldemort together, even before then, they weren't the same.

It was so odd for Voldemort to be Tom's ending, but not being able to associate one with the other in his mind. He supposed it worked out better for him though. He didn't want to treat Tom based on a bias that was almost sixty years older than he was.

He heard the shower running and blinked a few times, flexing his arms as he stood from where he'd been leaning his elbows on the counter, rubbing the sore areas as he looked around. He closed the cabinets that he'd flung open blindly, righting glasses he'd knocked over in his haste and just…making himself busy before he left the kitchen to lie down.

He left his lights off as he went to lie in bed. He closed his eyes and rubbed his face, taking a deep breath in and forcing all thoughts of war, hate, and terror out of his mind as he exhaled. He stared up at the ceiling, letting his eyes adjust to the soft moonlight that filtered through the curtains into his room.

His head turned slowly, lethargic even, when he heard a knock by his door. Tom's silhouette was outlined in his door way, fresh from the shower and dressed for bed. Harry turned his head back to the ceiling and hummed lightly. Tom's feet padded softly against the floor before the bed dipped and Tom lay awkwardly against Harry's side.

"How's your hand?" Harry murmured quietly.

"Better than ever, who was that man in the alley?"

"He was a dark wizard, or what will eventually be considered a dark wizard once more people know about Grindelwald. He's a man with absolutely horrific ideas planned for the Wizarding world."

"Why doesn't anyone stop him?"

"They will, they just haven't yet."

"Oh, where did you learn to do that?"

"Where I lived…before I came to adopt you, I had to know how to protect myself…there were people much worse than him, it was either learn to survive or fall behind."

"Didn't you have anyone to save you?"

"No, Tom," Harry answered, holding the boy closely, "most often than not, I was the one doing the saving."

"Well, at least you have practice now."

"I'm not so sure that's a good thing."

"Why not?"

"I don't like hurting people, it really doesn't matter what they've done to me or others. I just…can't bring myself to intentionally put someone in pain, just for the gratification of it. Sometimes I lose my temper, and things happen, things I can't control because I get too emotional, but even then, I feel so much guilt afterwards. Do you understand?"

"I think so."

"I'll fight to protect the people close to me, but it's like I've lost a part of myself with whoever I've stopped."

"Like a tribute?"

"I guess you could put it that way," Harry murmured, rubbing the hand that had been cut open less than an hour before as Tom quieted. He didn't stop rubbing the smooth, unblemished palm until he was positive that the young boy was asleep. Once he stopped, he hugged the boy to him and closed his eyes, letting his empty mind lull him to sleep. He didn't allow himself to think about anything that had happened that day. Tom was fine, he was fine, and everything else would be fine.

Just another day in his danger-attracting life, he supposed.

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Have a great weekend!

Mei-chan


	6. Chapter 6

Unbeta'd

Enjoy.

Please review your opinions.

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It was a few weeks later, when Harry was getting sick of sitting inside lazily, that he had a sudden epiphany. Well, not a large epiphany, maybe just a realization that felt likes an epiphany because he hadn't been thinking about anything for very large periods of time lately.

Tom was lying on his stomach on the floor, flipping through one of Harry's books as he kicked his feet back and forth in the air. Almost all the windows in the house were open, even the balcony doors that let in a nice, cool breeze every once in a while.

"Hey, Tom, do you feel like going out?"

The boy stopped kicking his feet for a moment before he turned a page, "Why?"

"I'd like to go to the park, or go play in the woods."

"Why would you do something like that?"

"Oh, because it's fun, you've never played hide and go seek, or cops and robbers before?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, hide and go seek, you usually play with more than one person. One person is the chosen seeker while the rest try to outsmart them by hiding. Cops and Robbers is a pretend game you play, like the bad guy going after the good guy. Say I make a fort in the forest and walk away and you rob me, then I have to find you, or I have to battle you before you get away."

"Sounds pointless,"

"Er - well, I suppose it is, but its fun, and relaxing. Haven't you ever had one of those days, where you'd just played so much, or done so much you just couldn't wait until you got into bed, and by the time you were in bed and falling asleep, you were just completely relaxed?"

"No...but I've seen you have them, usually you just complain through the whole thing before you pass out early for bed. Sometimes, if you're really tired, you snore, loudly." Tom said matter-of-factly.

"Haha, yeah, well, I guess you'll just have to do it to understand it. C'mon, go get some play clothes on; we're going to go play outside. It can't be good for either one of us to be cooped up in the house all times of the year."

Tom sighed before closing his book and going to change, putting the book back its place as he did.

It wasn't long before the two were standing out in the back yard, the sun bright and warm against their skin as the breeze caressed them. Tom was in shorts and a short sleeved shirt while Harry wore the same except for his long jeans.

"You know that brook? The one with the flowers that takes a while to get to when we walk?"

"Yes, why?"

"I'll race you!" Harry proclaimed with a smile on his face as he turned to Tom, watching the challenge flare to life in the young boy's eyes before Tom smirked. Harry's grin only widened as he stretched, but when Tom saw the other man relax slightly with his stretch, he took off laughing.

"Oi! You cheater get back here!"

"You never said there was a start! You just said you'd race me! I'll see you when you get there, Harry." The boy was out of Harry's sight as he ducked under a tree branch and took off through the brush.

Harry followed shortly after Tom left his sight, laughing along with Tom as the boy's amusement trailed behind him. He jumped over a few ditches, stumbling in some places, and ending up dirty overall by the time he got within a few feet of Tom. Just as he was catching up, the boy pulled back a tree branch to pass before there was an eruption of laughter and Harry was on his back with the air knock out of him, watching the tree branch sway to and fro above him before it settled back into its original place.

He gasped for breathe as he laid there, trying to gain his bearings. That was not funny, and Tom was going to regret it.

As soon as he could start breathing correctly again and was able to get up.

By the time he got up and trekked the rest of the way to the brook, because really, he'd already lost, he knew that, Tom was sitting on a high tree branch, swing his legs back and forth as he whistled.

"I won!" He announced happily once he spotted Harry.

"You hit me with a tree."

"There aren't any rules about anything, so it's not like I cheated; besides, if you'd have been winning, I would have been the one who collided with the tree branch."

"I could have been hurt."

"Oh, are you?"

"'Course not, but that's not the point."

"Nope, you're just sulky that you lost."

"No, the point was that you cheated."

"How can you cheat when there aren't any rules?" Tom asked innocently.

Harry let out a frustrated sigh before blowing his hair out of his face. "Fine, you win!"

"Well, yeah, I got here first, didn't I?"

Harry decided not to answer that as he walked over to the water and took his shoes off, letting his feet rest in the cool water as he sat at the bank, resting back on his arms as he closed his eyes and stared up at the sky.

"It's such a beautiful day," he said, "I miss this."

His chest was still heaving as he basked under the warm sun, his hair damp with sweat. He heard rustling, and then a thump before soft feet padded towards him. He cracked one eye open to see Tom staring down at him. His face still lightly flushed from his running, his hair damper than Harry's.

"Miss what?" He asked quietly.

"The exertion; running just to run, being able to play and then lie in the grass and take a nap. Just...messing around in general...don't rush to grow up, Tom. It sounds so stupid, I know, because really, you're already so intelligent, but just listen. As I was growing up, I just couldn't wait to be stronger, to be more responsible; now, I sometimes wish I could sleep in, or just not go into work. Or leave the dishes for a few days just so I don't have to always be doing something. Besides, when you get older, people expect more from you. It's easier just being a kid. You get almost everything you want, and you rarely have to do anything in turn. Things were so much more simpler."

"Can we race again tomorrow?" Tom asked as he sat down next to Harry, his shoes off to the side as his feet slipped into the water.

"Sure, we can race any time you want, kiddo."

"Do you think we could come swimming one day?"

"Do you know how to swim, Tom?"

"Er – do you know how to swim?"

"I didn't, I had to learn though, after I was thrown into the water, so I could save myself and my best friend. Don't ever be afraid of something you can't do, Tom, because eventually, you'll learn, but if you're afraid of it because you don't know how to do it, after a while you become afraid of the thing itself instead of your inexperience."

"Is there anything you can't do?"

"Yeah, loads of stuff."

"Like what?"

"Ugh – let's see. I can't make cookies without burning them. I'm awful at cleaning charms and the sort for the house, or even spells for cooking food. I'm pretty horrid at transfiguration and I couldn't make a potion to save my life if I tried."

"How can you be such a good cook but so bad at potions?"

"I had a really…biased teacher. He knew my father, hated my father, so then he hated me."

"Didn't he get in trouble for that?"

"Our mentor was a little biased, when you meet him, you'll understand. Maybe he's dulled with age, but I doubt it." Harry murmured as he swayed his feet back and forth in the water. He felt positively alive as he laid there next to Tom. He was completely relaxed, but energized. It was almost like…

"Hey, Tom, how'd you like to go flying?"

The boy blinked owlishly before looking out over the water where the sun caused it to glitter widely. "Flying? Like…what? Like a plane?"

"No…we're wizards, Tom, we fly on brooms."

"We can fly on our kitchen broom?" Tom asked incredulously.

Harry couldn't help it, he laughed loudly, his feet kicking up water as he rolled onto his side and continued to laugh. Tom looked slightly narked, but that only made Harry laugh harder.

"S-sorry, no, Tom, not the kitchen broom, although, I think you could. We have specialized brooms, made for riding – not cleaning – that we can fly on. There's even this game, its called quidditch, which you can play while you fly. It's the best thing in the world. I love flying. It makes me feel free."

"You are free."

"Well, I guess I am, but sometimes, with work and people, I just need to escape, you know? Like…read a book or something."

"Yes, I know." Tom answered.

Harry knew that Tom understood though, the unspoken words about the orphanage settling between them as the sun slide part way past the horizon.

Tom sighed, turning his attention from Harry as he watched the patterns of the sun move across the water. He'd never done anything like this at the orphanage. He'd never run for sport, or raced for fun. He'd only ever run to get away from the people who had wanted to hurt him, to tease him, to show how much better they were than him. He clenched his hands against the ground as he grinded his teeth.

He couldn't help but compare the then to the now. It was so much different living with Harry. He was happy, but he wasn't naive. Harry would tire soon, wouldn't he? Just like everyone else did. Tom was what to him, a child? A boy he felt _pity_ for.

Harry talked to him, told him about his lift; Tom had never seen him with someone else though. So perhaps Harry told everyone the things he told Tom. He didn't want to think about it...though it haunted all of his thoughts every day. Every time he smiled, he had that strong, lingering thought, that one day; Harry wouldn't be there for him, wouldn't want to be there for him. The thought made his stomach drop and his throat tighten as he pulled his feet out of the water, suddenly cold. He curled against Harry's chest and closed his eyes with a sigh.

Would Harry ever be like the mothers? Or even the other children? Tom didn't know what was worse; would he rather have Harry ignore him, or hate him so much that he'd treat Tom badly? Which was worse, being ignored by someone you...loved, or abused by them? He couldn't imagine either, he wouldn't cry, no matter what. He wouldn't allow what-ifs to cause him worry. He wouldn't allow himself to wallow in the self misery he'd decided to rip himself away from when Harry adopted him. He didn't like it. He didn't like always being angry and sad. He didn't like always feeling helpless. That's how he'd been at the orphanage, and he promised himself he wouldn't let anyone make him feel like that again, not even himself. Ever since that first taste of freedom, that first taste of happiness without punishment, he'd promised himself.

Harry ran a hand through his hair and Tom forced himself away from the morbid thoughts, feeling selfish and guilty for associating such thoughts with someone like Harry. The man had never really alienated him, or showed a dislike to Tom that hadn't been fueled by his very short temper. Tom really hadn't thought someone could be as…ill-tempered as Harry was. He'd thought Harry would blame things he did to Tom on his temper, ever since that first hit. It wasn't like that though.

If Harry got that angry, he'd always disappear until he'd settled down, or he'd destroy things safely away from Tom. So that even if the boy saw what was happening, he wasn't hurt by any of it. Tom had seen Harry destroy an entire room, many actually, before in his anger. He'd seen Harry clench his hands until he bled, using self-control Tom hadn't realized the older man possessed, other times his anger took over. Usually, however, it wasn't Tom who was angering him, so perhaps that would change if Tom was the center of Harry's ire. He shook the thoughts away, burrowing his face against Harry's shirt as he broke away from his thoughts. Ignoring the pessimistic mood he felt settling over him.

Things were so fun and carefree; Tom thought that perhaps this is what being a child with caring parents might feel like.

He didn't have parents; though, for the last few years he'd had Harry, but he didn't see _Harry_ as a _parent_ he liked Harry, and not just because he was nice to him. Harry was strong, dependent, and passionate; he protected Tom, kept him safe, and Tom never wanted that feeling to go away.

He would never admit to anyone that he couldn't take care of himself all the time, but with Harry he didn't have to. The man took in things around him he cared for and protected them with his all. In other people, Tom would see the trait as a fault, and that it was their idiocy if they wanted to do such a thing. With Harry, however, it fit, and Tom loved the attention Harry seemed to unconsciously shower him with.

Tom used to think that bed times, curfews and rules were in place to punish children, but Harry had explained why he did the things he did.

There was a bed time because even though you could stay up and do whatever you'd like, you'd wake up feeling tired and perhaps even sick. Tom had a curfew because it was dangerous outside and Harry didn't want him to get hurt. Rules were in place to teach manners and self-imposed rules and habits.

Harry would remind him that the only reason he'd get punished for leaving water on the bathroom floor after bathing was because someone could slip in the water, and that if you make a mess, you should clean it up.

It had reason in Tom's mind, now that Harry explained it, and he could understand why Harry did it. He didn't do it to punish Tom, or to be cruel; he did it to teach him valuable lessons in life. Things that, if he was ever on his own, would be useful.

Eventually, Harry carried a sleeping Tom home once he'd put both of their shoes on.


	7. Chapter 7

I got sick and then I got into a car crash. Life has sucked.

I saw my life flash before my eyes.

Enjoy!

* * *

It was during the summer before Hogwarts that Harry felt the first stirrings of possessiveness towards Tom that had nothing to do with him being a child.

One of his muggle friends watched his nieces and nephews regularly, so Harry had asked him if he'd babysit Tom recently. Harry had gotten a job that demanded he be away for longer than he'd willingly leave Tom alone for. Since Tom had met Albert and his boyfriend Rick before, Harry was a lot less wary about leaving Tom with them

Tom had complained about not liking Albert, but Harry thought it was because Albert was a muggle, while Rick was an unknowing muggle born.

Tom had eventually agreed to go, even though he didn't like it. Harry had told him he didn't have to like it; he just had to deal with it until this job was over.

The first few nights he picked up Tom, he took them straight home before going to sleep. He was too tired to notice Tom's odd behaviour. The next morning though, when Tom was shaking under the hand he placed lightly on the boy's shoulder, he knew something was up.

He'd asked Tom about it, and the boy said he was just a little cold.

Harry knew Tom was lying, he also knew that Tom hoped he'd drop it, so he did.

That night, when he picked Tom up, the boy flinched away from his touch. He decided to stay awake with the boy.

He made himself some tea before sitting down with Tom. It was positively blazing, yet Tom had heavy pants and a long sleeve shirt on.

Tom had clothes; Merlin knew Harry bought the kid almost everything he wanted. So why would he wear clothes like that?

_To hide something, like I used to…_

Harry thought as he took a sip of the warm tea he cradled in his hands.

"How was your day at Albert's and Rick's?" He asked. He saw Tom freeze up and his chest tightened.

"Oh, it was great!" Tom answered, "Although, Rick isn't around much. I see him sometimes, when he needs the loo, but otherwise, he's in their bedroom. Sometimes, Albert and him yell at each other but Kara and Liz said that was how they showed they loved one another."

"Where was Jacob today?"

"Kara said he stayed home to help their pa."

"Are you and Albert getting along now?"

"Yeah, he's great." Tom answered with a grin, his eyes closing naturally with the expression.

Harry offered the boy a smile before standing and stretching, feeling all the kinks leave his back.

"Well, kiddo, I'm going to put this in the sink and then go lay down. Are you good for the night?"

'Yes. I'll probably get a glass of water and then go to bed."

"All right," Harry murmured, leaning down to kiss s the top of Tom's head. G'night,"

Harry did as he said he would, but he didn't sleep. He heard Tom a few minutes later, creep to his door, pause for a moment, then sneak to the bathroom. He heard the lock on the door slide shut.

The bathroom's door had never been locked by either of them before. Was Tom worried about Harry doing something now that he wasn't around as much? Had he alienated the boy?

Harry got off work early, lying to his employer about an emergency. He knocked softly on Albert's door. He waited a few moments before letting himself in, climbing up the stairs slowly to the man's floor. He started taking them quickly and two at a time when he heard a scream he recognized as Tom's. As he got closer to the apartment he could distinguish the words

"I won't let you touch them you filthy mu-"

There was a ringing of skin on skin before Tom gave an outraged scream. Then Harry could hear the tap of feet against the floor before there was a loud crash and Harry heard Albert let out an angry scream.

Then he heard something like a small thud before Albert spoke. "You're just a mutt, no one wanted you and Harry's too kind to see anything hurt. Your luck has run-"

Harry kicked the door in, his face red as he stared at the scene before him, absolutely livid.

The thud he'd heard was Tom slamming against the wall before sliding to the floor.

Liz, Kara and Jacob were gathered together in a corner; Jacob standing between the girls and the room protectively. The girls were crying harshly and Jacob looked close to tears.

There was a trail of blood on the carpet that Harry's eyes followed. Rick was on the ground, knocked out as his shoulder bled.

Harry snapped.

It seemed that the space of time that had passed from his entering and the scoping of the room was less than a second. Perhaps it was; he was basically a fully trained Auror, why wouldn't his reaction time be quick and precise?

"H-harry, I thought you worked late." The man stuttered out.

Harry would have laughed at the look on the man's face if he didn't want to rearrange it at the moment.

"Albert." Harry stated. His voice was cold and vicious. He took two steps into the room and basked in the fact that Albert scrambled back.

The man was almost twice his size. He had at least three stones on him and just under a third of a metre. Harry felt smug that he could still intimidate someone who was larger than him, who also knew nothing about his past.

"Keep walking to the wall behind you, place your hands flat against it, and don't move. Kara, Liz, Jacob, honey, can you three get into the hallway?" Harry asked softly, watching the kids scramble towards the exit. Once they were out of the room, Harry spoke again.

"I'm going to wake Tom up, and then I'm going to get Rick. Then the six of us are leaving. If you move or follow, I'll hurt you." Harry finished. His voice definite and angry; it was the voice that had unnerved Voldemort at their final confrontation.

Harry walked quietly to Tom, touching his face softly. "Tom, love, I need you to wake up." When Tom didn't respond after a few minutes, Harry forced some of his magic to the hand he held against Tom's face, forcing an enervate through his fingers.

Tom snapped up with a gasp and scrambled back before he saw Harry. He immediately attached himself to the man, hyperventilating.

"Sh, it's all right, you've safe now. I need you to go out in the hall for me, Tom; can you keep protecting the children for me?"

Tom nodded quickly before rushing outside; completely ignoring Albert as he made his way to the hall. Harry stood slowly, assessing the room again before he slowly made his way over to Rick.

He saw out of the corner of his eye, Albert move. Even before the man finished his charge, Harry had snapped his wrist and used his own momentum against him by flipping him over his back. He didn't even realize what he'd done until it was over. He looked down at the man, clutching his wrist to his chest in awe. Then he looked at his own hands, where had he learned that?

He shook himself before finishing the way to Rick.

"What are you going to do, carry him? You're too puny, you litt-"

Harry broke the man off by picking Rick up and setting the man on his back. Albert looked at him in slight awe and fear as he began to leave.

"Do I need to continue to kick your arse, or are you going to stay put?"

"I'll stay," Albert answered meekly.

Harry said nothing as he left, slamming the door behind him as he met the kids in the hallway.

"Tom can you do me a favor and write our address on his door? And that Kara, Jake, and Liz will be with us." Tom nodded before moving behind Harry. The other man smiled reassuringly at the younger kids as he made his way down the stairs with Rick on his back.

"Come on, kids, we're going to my house until your mom gets home."

The three followed and shortly after he heard Tom catching up. Tom stayed by his side and the other three held hands until they got to Harry's house.

The three kids sitting on the couch as Harry laid Rick out on Tom's bed.

Tom made tea while everyone settled down. Harry handed Tom his, telling him not to put it down as he made three more and laced them with a sleeping draught.

He served them to the three children sitting on the couch before he made his own cup. He dug a calming draught out of a high cabinet, handing it to Tom before checking on the, now sleeping, children.

When he walked back into the kitchen, Tom was sitting on the counter with a frozen bag of water on his shoulder.

"What have you go t there, under your shirt?"

Tom shook his head negatively as he gripped his shirt with his free hand.

"Come on, Tom, love, let's get you in a bath. Once Jake's mom sees your…wounds. I'll heal them. I know you don't want pity, sympathy or for anyone to see, but she needs to know what Albert is capable of so, she won't ever go near him with or without her kids again. Can you do that for me, Tom?"

"Yes, I don't want that…man near anyone else again. Why would he do that, Harry?" Tom asked, his voice confused and pleading.

Harry stepped between Tom's legs and hugged him softly, conscious of the bruising.

"Sometimes when people do bad things or have bad things done to them, they think and feel differently. It's not usually a good change."

"I've had bad things done to me too! I don't want to be like him, Harry, please don't let me be like him." Tom begged.

Harry realized the boy was crying and he hugged Tom like the boy was the only thing keeping him alive.

"It's alright, love, you're much, much stronger that that man. You won't turn out like that, I promise to do my best that you don't."

"We're kids, how could you do that to…defenseless children?"

"I don't know, Tom." Harry murmured, pulling the boy off the counter and holding him as he took them to the bathroom. He set Tom on the sink before drawing his wand. He filled the bath tub with warm water and summoned a wash cloth before taking his shirt off.

"Alright, Tom, the faster we do this, the faster it'll be over."

"I don't want to show you."

"If you show me, I'll show you mine."

"You don't have any," Tom shot back pointedly, looking at Harry's chest.

"It's called a glamour, Tom, it changes things you don't want seen, hides them"

Tom stared him down for a few minutes before looking away and slowly pulling his shirt over his head.

Tom's chest, stomach, shoulders and upper arms were a mosaic of black, purple and yellow.

"Has he been hurting you since the first day?" Harry asked quietly.

Tom flinched but nodded.

"I'm going to kill him." Harry whispered. His voice deadly as he lightly touched a dark bruise with a cut right beneath Tom's left ribs.

"You'll get in trouble."

"No, I don't think I will. Did he hurt the others?"

"He did before. I stopped him, that's why I look so bad. I protected them."

"I'm so proud of you," Harry murmured fiercely as he pulled the boy into another hug, "so, so proud of you, Tom, you've gotten no idea."

He felt the small hands settle against his back lightly as Tom buried his face against his chest, heaving a dry sob.

"Let's get you clean though, all right, then we'll lie in bed for the rest of the day, only getting out when Sarah or Mike come to pick up their kids, okay?" Harry asked quietly as he moved Tom's hair out of his face. The boy nodded and slid off the counter, kicking his pants off and sliding into the blissfully warm water. Harry kneeled down by the tub and helped clean Tom up, taking extra care since the boy's entire body seemed to be one large bruise with various cuts scattered throughout.

By the time they finished the water was pink and the white cloth Harry had used to wash the boy down was now a dark pink, red almost. He pulled Tom to him and wrapped the boy in a towel before carrying him on his hip to his bedroom. He put him in one of his pajama shirts, which hung to his knees, before getting Tom some underpants. When he came back into the room with them he was fully dressed, grabbing his shirt from the bathroom.

Tom had a solid grip on Harry's shirt though, as the man tried to pull away from the bed once Tom got settled.

"You said we'd lie in bed..."

"I'm just going to get a glass of water."

Tom nodded, watching Harry leave the room, and his eyes fixed at the same place once he came back.

"Why didn't you hurt Albert like you did that man in Diagon alley?" Tom asked quietly once Harry had been lying down next to him for a few minutes.

Harry stayed quiet for a while before answering, "In the muggle world, people like him get in far more trouble, and when I compare it to what I would have done to him. He would have gotten off easy. This way, he'll be an outcast, and he'll constantly be alienated, and he'll feel the gut-wrenching guilt. Not to mention, that once some of Rick's friends find out what happened, Albert is going to wake up in the hospital a few times. I also didn't want to hurt him. I'm sick of hurting people, I would kill to protect you, Tom, but what Albert has in store for him is much more long lastingly painful than what I would have done."

They spent the next three hours in bed. Tom curled against Harry's side with his hand clenched in the man's shirt. Tom fell in and out of sleep occasionally, only waking to look at Harry glassily for a few moments at a time and then fall quickly back to sleep.

Harry found the action endearing and comforting as he ran a hand through Tom's hair. It wasn't long after that he heard knocking.

He extracted himself from Tom gently, making sure the boy stayed asleep before he made his way to the door. He woke Rick with a wave of his wand before opening the door. He greeted both Sarah and Mike with a solemn expression.

"Hullo, come in, we need to talk." He said quietly, opening the door further and leading them in.

The two followed after him, Mike closing the door once they'd both entered. He heard Sarah gasp and realized that Rick was standing in the doorway, one eye black and blue with blood dried against his lips.

"Oh my god, what happened!?" She whispered furiously, aware that the children were asleep a few feet away.

Rick grimaced before shrugging, "Albert,"

"He...hit you?"

"Yes, it isn't the first time. It was...fun and games at first. Well, no, he liked it, and I thought I could adjust, that he would never hurt me or leave me if I did as told. I suppose it was just foolish thinking."

"What about the children?" She asked, her tone becoming frightened.

"You're children are fine; my child, on the other hand, is currently lying in my bed, passed out from the pain. Tom tried to protect your children, and Albert almost killed him. You shouldn't allow your children back around that man. He'll only get worse, only push further. One day, you may show up and they might not be there."

"What happened to little, Tom?" Harry moved his head in the direction of his bedroom, allowing the others to follow. Harry made sure Tom was still asleep before moving forward and peeling Tom's shirt up.

He heard Sarah gasp again before giving a sob; he heard shifting and assumed she'd turned away. Mike's fist connected with Harry's wall, and Tom made a sound of pain in his sleep before shifting.

"I can't believe..." he began, "I can't believe we left our kids with someone like him." He finished helplessly. "Is Tom going to be alright?"

"He's got some internal bruising, a lot of cuts and external bruises. I think he might have a few cracked ribs even. Ever since Tom started going to Albert's, he's been taking the brunt of his anger by protecting your three. So it isn't just the new things that happened today, he has a lot of accumulative damage. I don't know how long it'll take to heal, but I'll be here with him, for him. I just want you to look; I don't want you to think this was a onetime thing. If you send your children back to that man, they may not return one day. Do you understand?"

He held Mike's gaze as he held a crying Sarah against his chest.

"Don't worry, I'm not letting my kids or Rick near him again. Rick's like a brother, if I had known sooner; I wouldn't have let Albert near him in the first place. I was just trying to be accepting of his life style. I didn't understand, and sometimes I didn't want to, but I never knew he was being hurt. I won't let it continue." The man whispered vehemently.

"That's great; Rick needs someone like you and your wife in his life right now. Not someone like Albert. He's not fragile, but no one deserves to be treated like he was. Anyway…are you guys okay to take the tykes home?"

Sarah nodded while she tried to calm her sobs; Mike only rubbed her back as he followed her out of the room, looking back at Tom grimly before squaring his shoulders and continuing on.

Harry followed to the hall, watching each one of the adults grab a kid before leaving. Rick nodded at him thankfully before kicking the door shut behind him.

He spelled the door closed before grabbing some healing potions out of the cabinet to take to Tom. He was gentle as he lay on the bed next to Tom and tilted his head up. He put a healing potion to his lips and encouraged him to swallow before putting a pain numbing potion to his lips, repeating the notion with two more potions; one for blood replenishing and another to keep the boy asleep.

He trailed a hand up and down the boy's stomach, watching the bruises fade away slowly. Once he saw that all the bruises we gone, he sighed before settling down and wrapping his arm protectively around Tom, falling restlessly into sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Tom continued to sleep in his bed in the weeks leading up to Hogwarts. Tom stayed near to Harry, even while the man was at work. Tom would sit against the wall while Harry would work, watching the older man day in and day out until he was done with the job he'd gotten that caused him to find a baby sitter.

He'd either read Harry's old Hogwarts books, normal books, or color on paper while he waited each day for Harry to finish.

~^__^~

It wasn't until Harry got a sense that Tom was more comfortable around him again that he spoke to the boy. He'd been done working for two days now; Tom and he had spent the two days together outside, playing in the brook and forest. Then, spending the evenings together until it was too dark to see without a source of light. At that time, they'd spend the rest of the night in bed, after a shower, either talking or just falling into sleep comfortably.

"Tom," Harry called softly as he sat down at what served as their kitchen table with two cups of steaming tea. "Come sit and talk with me for a mo."

Tom gave him a weird look but complied, setting his book down and moving from the couch to the chair.

Harry could tell Tom was approaching him with trepidation, could see the anxious look he was trying to hide, and he heard Tom's breathe hitch as he was sitting down. "I need to speak with you," Harry repeated quietly, holding Tom's gaze, "but if you can't talk, you tell me; then, we'll talk about it when you're ready."

Tom nodded but said nothing as he waited for Harry.

The older man's nerves finally got to him and he let out a shaky breath as he laughed quietly. "Okay, it's probably just as hard for me to ask this as it is for you to answer it, believe it or not, mostly because I'm as afraid of your answers as you are my reaction. First off, though, do you trust me, Tom?"

"Yes, of course, why wouldn't I?"

"You trust me to keep you safe, to get you the things you need…to always be here for you?"

"Well, yes, why?" Tom asked quizzically.

"Then, why couldn't you come to me? Why couldn't you tell me what was happening with Albert; why couldn't you trust me enough to let me protect you, like I promised you I would?" Harry's voice was rough and he had a hand cradling his own neck as he buried his face against his wrist. His other hand joined, rubbing across his face as he sat back after a few moments with a sigh.

It took Tom all of a few seconds to realize that Harry was ashamed. He could see it in his eyes, he suddenly felt so much self disgust towards himself he almost choked on it. He'd thought, by not telling

Harry, that whatever happened would just go away after awhile, that he wouldn't remember it as much because no one would know about it; no one but him would worry about it, no one would ask about it, or give him looks of pity.

"I didn't want you to worry," it sounded lame to his own ears and he almost cringed at the silence that followed.

"I'm more worried when you don't talk with me, when you close up; compared to your normal, if not eccentric, self."

Tom felt a flush of anger as Harry replied, "How can you say that to me, though? You never talk about what's wrong; the only time you complain is about work, and even then it's only about how tired you get! You never, ever, let me help you when something's wrong! I may not be as strong as you, or as old, but I want to be able to help you too, you big….you big idiot!" Tom hollered. His face was beet red as he stood from his chair and sprinted to his room.

Harry let his head fall onto his folded arms, letting himself rest on the table as he took nice, calming breathes. He really didn't want to get mad at Tom; that was the LAST thing he wanted to do.

They needed to build up their trust, not break it. Obviously, Tom was a lot smarter than he thought. He treated the boy like he would any other adult, but Harry was slowly starting to realize that Tom was smarter than any adult Harry had met thus far; besides Voldemort, Severus, and Dumbledore, of course.

He figured that was the best it was going to be for now, though. He'd let things settle down with Tom, so the boy wasn't on guard when he talked to him about Hogwarts. They had a week and a half before Hogwarts started, and he didn't want to go there with a drift forming between Tom and himself. He sighed before closing his eyes, letting the quiet soothe him.

~^__^~

Harry was so…aggravating! Tom growled as he threw his pillow back on his bed, letting out a breath quickly to express his annoyance. Harry couldn't say anything about not having trust! The only way Tom ever knew there was something bothering the other man, or if he was sick, was if he was aware enough to look for it in the older boy. If he didn't pay attention to the details, then he wouldn't notice how tired his caretaker was or that sometimes the older boy spaced of without intending too. Tom knew Harry became stressed. He knew the older boy had things he needed to get off his chest; but did he not tell him because he thought Tom was too young, or because they were about Tom himself?

The younger boy didn't really know which one was worse. Both seemed crushingly oppressive.

He sighed as he pulled his pillow to his chest and lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling blankly. Hogwarts was a week and a half away. At least then he'd be able to meet other wizards and witches, and he wouldn't have to spend all of his time with Harry.

He didn't want to have to explain everything he did or didn't do to the older man. He wanted to be able to make his own decisions. Harry did, why couldn't he? It's not like he didn't know the consequences of his own actions. That's what they were based on anyway, what could he do that would keep him safe, be to his gain, and valid.

He didn't need someone to tell him what to do! He didn't need someone making him feel this…this regret that made his stomach twist, when he'd done nothing wrong. At least, he didn't think he had.

~^__^~

Four days later, on a Monday, Harry took them both to Hogwarts. It was on their way there, that Tom saw the look on Harry's face that meant he was about to say something he knew Tom wouldn't like.

The younger man braced himself as he saw Harry take a breath to speak.

"I wanted to tell you something before we get there."

"Yes?"

"They may not let you go to Hogwarts early, Tom." The older boy said firmly, and quckly, as if hoping Tom wouldn't react as violently to what he'd said as he knew the boy would.

Tom, though, reacted as predicted as he bodily ripped himself away from the older boy before turning and stomping in the opposite direction with an angry hiss.

"Tom, look at me," Harry murmured firmly.

The younger man was scowling but did as he was told. "You said I could go!"

"You will, Tom, but I'm giving you a choice in case they don't enroll you. If they don't, I want you to take a year to study whatever you want. Now, listen, especially to what I'm going to say now," Harry waited until Tom had eye contact with him, "some things you may find interesting others will ridicule you for. I want you to know, that no matter what you want to learn, I will always be here for you, whether it's to help you, teach you, or just be here for you. All right?"

"They'll hate me?"

"Only if you let them, Tom, there's nothing wrong with knowledge, it's how you use it."

"So, you'll never hate me...for anything?"

"No, Tom. It's like I said: the only person who could ever hurt me is you. I'll only hate you if you want me to, but it'll hurt."

Tom nodded, burying his face against Harry's chest, the top of his head barely coming up to Harry's chin.

He rubbed the smaller boy's back.

"I know it's hard to believe, Tom, since everyone else has lied, but I will always be here for you, unless you decide you don't need me, and even then I may be stubborn enough to stick around."

"I'd never tell you to leave," Tom mumbled into his shirt.

Harry smiled, a soft chuckle escaping him, "Good, because I don't want to leave, kiddo."

"What if they don't have anything I like at Hogwarts?" Tom asked quietly after a few moments of silence.

"Then, I'll get you some books from Diagon Alley and what I can't teach you, I know you're brilliant enough to learn on your own; with a little help and some supervision. Then, we'll just have you take your NEWTS, when you're ready."

"What if I wanted to go to Durmstrang for a year?"

"Well, then, I'd have to let Dumbledore and Headmaster Dippet know that I'd need a replacement for a year because my favorite student needed me."

Tom beamed at Harry's words, his face hidden in the older man's shirt, even though Harry could feel the smile. Once the hug was broken, Harry took hold of Tom's had again and led them towards Hogwarts.

~^__^~

Tom tried not to let go of Harry's hand as he stared around him in absolute awe. Hogwarts was gigantic! It was magical, mystical and it called to him. It called to him like their home called to him. This place felt like home, but he'd never been here before; it felt disconcerting to be pulled to the place so strongly, it left Tom wary.

He felt Harry's hand on his tighten momentarily before he directed them both in a different direction.

The walk towards the front door of the building only seemed to reassess the fact, in Tom's mind, that Hogwarts was huge. By the time they were about thirty meters away from the door, Tom couldn't see all of Hogwarts without having to move his head around vastly, and even then, he couldn't actually see the definition of the top of the castle like he could from a distance.

Tom almost stumbled as Harry pulled him on a divergent path, away from Hogwarts. They followed the worn path, Harry gripping his hand slightly more as he spoke, "We're going to be late, we need to speed up."

"Late? Late for what?" Tom asked quizzically. Weren't they supposed to go to Hogwarts? "Where are we going?"

"To Hogsmeade,"

"Why?"

"You'll see when we get there," Harry answered, smirking back at the younger boy, "C'mon, let's run. I'll race you to to the lamp post about fifty meters ahead!" Harry yelled excitedly, letting go of Tom's hand as he took off.

The younger boy didn't waste any time in trying to catch up with the older man. He quickly realized that all the times that they'd raced, the only reason Harry hadn't won was because the older boy wasn't trying. Tom didn't even come close to catching up with Harry, and by the time he reached their destination, Harry didn't look like he'd just been sprinting for fifty meters.

He let his hands rest on his knees as he panted, trying to catch his breathe as he stared at Harry, annoyed.

"We're here, what now?" Tom asked, slightly annoyed as he finally caught his breathe.

Harry only grinned, in a way only the older man could, and then started to walk off. Tom, obviously, followed along as they walked in silence. He tried again, though, trying to figure out what had Harry so enthusiastic about a visit to the village they were now in, which, in Tom's opinion, looked totally boring; compared to Hogwarts, that huge, magical, mysterious entity just a few kilometers away!

"Why are we here again?"

"I never told you to begin with, just wait, you'll see soon enough, it'll be fun. C'mon, why don't we get you something, it's almost past lunch time anyway, I'm sure you're starved."

Tom couldn't deny he was hungry, but he also couldn't stop the growing suspicion that Harry was trying to distract him because, obviously he was, he didn't seem to care that he was being blatant about it, though, so Tom nodded his head and grasped the older boy's hand. He figured Harry would, and could, deal with anything that could happen.

Thy entered the tavern and Harry smiled widely, even though everyone looked at him distrustfully.

"Now, whatever happens while we're here, just stay inside, all right?" Harry asked suddenly, his voice quickly becoming serious as he pulled Tom to sit at a table that bordered on the windows out looking the paths of Hogsmeade.

"What's going to happen?"

"I don't quite know, yet, but when it does, promise me you will stay inside." Harry's countenance was quiet and contemplative as he stared across the table at Tom, his hands folded on the table between them as he leaned forward towards Tom.

Tom could tell that Harry was tense, that he was worried, could tell by how Harry's hands were gripped so hard they were a stark white from the pressure.

"I promise to stay inside here, even if the outside looks slightly fascinating and you may be in trouble. I won't be self-sacrificing, and I promise to follow every self-preserving instinct in my body." The words had their intended effect, and Tom felt his heart skip a beat when Harry smiled roguishly.

"All right then, you eat while I go out for a little while. I'll try and stay where you can see me."

Harry didn't waste any time in leaving, offering Tom another smile as he did so.

~^__^~

Then, he was alone in the pub, looking down at his food as he ran through ideas in his head. Why wouldn't Harry want him to leave this place? He'd hinted at safety, but, really, why would he bring Tom to a place where he had a chance of being hurt? He remembered Harry saying he had no idea what was going on, but yet he seemed as if he knew what would have happened if he wasn't there.

So how was it that Harry knew, but he didn't know? Maybe he was psychic. Tom almost laughed at the thought before he lost himself in that thinking thing he did. Entrapped in his own head as he analyzed things through, completely oblivious to his surrounds for the time being.

He was literally pulled from his musing a while later when screams filtered in from outside of the pub.

Tom had to literally force himself to stay seated as he heard chairs scrap back as adults throughout the tavern stood; some ran to the windows, while others rushed out into the streets, wands at the ready.

Tom only turned, trying to keep his heart at a decently safe beat, to watch what was transpiring outside through the windows. He saw people appearing, muffled cracks that sizzled out announcing their presence. He watched at the villagers fought against these people, all of them dressed in the same regal.

There was one man who appeared, however, who stuck out to Tom. He had brilliant blonde hair and a firm stance. His magic rolled off him in waves, that even he could feel from inside the tavern, wards and all. It made everything around him seem insignificant, because once Tom was able to focus on the power, recognize it from all the others, it was the only thing he could really acknowledge. Everything else was so much more...less in comparison. Except for Harry's, and that's how Tom could tell where the older boy was as he spotted him in the crowd by following his magic.

He watched Harry as the older boy moved through the spectacle that was occurring. He helped the villagers; he made it look easy, he made it look like child's play as he disarmed and neutralized almost every one of the people who'd arrived out of thin air that came in contact with him.

He saw the blonde man again, and his heart almost stopped beating as it fluttered for a moment before starting again; Harry was heading straight towards the man, an easy going smile on his face with confidence rolling off him almost as strongly as his magic did.

Tom had seen many things while he'd been with Harry. He knew Harry could defend himself just as well with magic as he could without, he knew that Harry knew a lot more magic than him, but he also knew that the blonde man didn't seemed to be worried about Harry (except, of course, for the agitation of having the people he arrived with thrown to the side like rag dolls) and that scared Tom, slightly.

He watched as the two of them stared one another down once Harry was within two meters of the man. He watched Harry smile - that carefree smile he used when they went running in their forest - as he talked, the blonde man looked more annoyed than anything. Then, he was yelling, his face flush and indignant as he glared at Harry. There was a feeling of warmth that encompassed the area and, from nowhere with that same sizzling crack, another man appeared. He had blue eyes and fiery red hair.

Tom watched the blonde man's posture change drastically as a lucrative smile graced his features and his entire attention shifted to the newcomer. He didn't seem to get the reaction he wanted though, because after a few words were spoken between the two, with Harry seeming to say something now and then, the blonde gave a snarl of frustration that Tom could almost feel before he shouted, the muffled words: "move out," making it to his ears.

The man disappeared, the crack almost vicious with his departure, and the village was soon left with its previous inhabitants.

That left Tom to watch in dread as the red headed man turned towards Harry with a smile on his face that Tom knew, at once, was fake. He saw Harry put his wand away and wasted no time scrambling out of his chair and running out of the tavern with a speed he reserved for racing with Harry to their brook.

The redheaded man saw him first, his gaze focused calculatingly on him and his wand held tight. Just as Harry was turning to his line of focus, Tom let out a shout. "Dad!"

Harry had just enough reaction time to hold out his arms as Tom went sailing through the air. Harry caught him easily, though, used to Tom's sporadic affections. His chuckle was warm and deep as he held Tom against his chest, one hand musing his hair into disaster.

"Hey, kiddo," Harry murmured, his voice as warm as his amusement had been.

Tom could feel the redhead's eyes on them, could tell the man was watching the interaction with the eyes of a prey to its predator. Tom, obviously, was going to use that to his complete and utter advantage.

"You scared me! You could have gotten hurt; dad, those men looked dangerous and mean, but then you were there! You saved everyone, you have got to be the best dad ever! Can you teach me how to save people too?" Tom spoke eagerly, his gaze filled with adoration and hero-worship, and really, it wasn't hard to accomplish, it was Harry, as he gazed at the green-eyed boy.

Harry only laughed, holding Tom tighter, "Maybe when you're older, or after you've eaten your lunch. You didn't finish it, did you?"

"No, how could I? You ran off to save the day half way through. I couldn't touch my food once I saw you disappear into all those people!" Tom said, his voice taking on an affliction he'd meant to fake for the sake of present company, but he could tell Harry knew. That he knew Tom really was hurt, and had been worried, and would still be worried when they got home.

"Hey now, you know I can take care of myself. You know I'd never let anything hurt you."

And damn if Tom didn't believe him as he buried his face into Harry's neck, his shoulders shaking slightly for added affect as Harry ran a soothing hand against his back. "Bloody brilliant, Tom." Harry whispered into his ear, just loud enough for him to hear. To anyone else, it'd probably should like a shushing noise, more than anything.

Tom's stomach fluttered with the warmth and glowing pride he received with the words. This time, when he snuggled against Harry and buried his face in the man's neck, he wished they were at home, on the couch, in their own little world.

There was the sound of someone clearing their throat, quietly; Tom didn't even spare the redheaded man a glance, he kept his head on Harry's shoulder, melting against the older man. Maybe Harry would let him take a nap. "Tired."

Harry relaxed, holding him securely and nodded his head. "Then, go to sleep silly." he whispered affectionately, keeping his intonation at a level where Tom knew he wanted the redhead to hear. He honestly didn't care who heard. He was allowed to rest!

Harry's voice against his ear, and the vibrations it caused were a security to Tom that he hadn't realized he'd wanted when he'd decided to stay in Harry's arms. Had he really been so anxious about losing the older boy? Tom felt his stomach sink as he realized he was. Harry could take care of himself, Tom knew that. What was this irrational fear?

He set the thoughts away for later as he listened to the conversation that had started up between the redhead and his Harry.

~^__^~

"You seemed to have frightened him,"

"No, if I had frightened him, we would have heard it. In length, at a level of intelligence that I would have ignored, because I don't know the meaning of half the things he's saying. He was just worried; he doesn't deal with that as well because he can't associate it with anger or incompetence."

"You're good with him," there was a shifting, and the way Harry's body relaxed with a fluidity of water, Tom assumed the redhead had put his wand away.

"Yeah, I 'suppose I am. We're each others saving grace."

"Where's his mother, surely she was on your outing with the two of you?"

"No. She wasn't. He doesn't have a mum. Well, I'm sure he has a mom, otherwise, he wouldn't be here. I don't know who she is though, or where by that matter."

The redhead made a sound that resembled disgust, one that made Tom wish Salazar was here to bit him, before speaking, "You're his father, no? You must have some idea."

"Father? Oh," there was that chuckle again, warm and inviting, a trap, "no, it isn't like that. He's not really my son, which means I'm not really his dad. I adopted him when I found him in muggle London. The muggles at the orphanage he was in were cruel to him because his magic manifested early. No child, or anyone really, deserved to be treated like that, so I whisked him away and he's been living with me since. Adjusting to life and it's many luxuries."

"Too good to be left with muggles?"

"Yeah, I suppose you could say that." Harry replied without a moments hesitation.

Tom imagined the look on the red head's face must be priceless considering the way he'd asked the question had been wary and challenging all at once. Did this man like muggles more than he liked wizards?

"It wouldn't have mattered if they were gods, though. When I brought him home he was tiny, angry and bruised. He didn't trust me or anyone else as far as he could shove us. They're not despicable because they're muggles, they're sub-human because of their behavior. Magic has nothing to do with it." Harry finished quietly, his gaze focusing on Tom, affection clear in his green eyes.

"Why were you in Hogsmeade today, sir?"

"Harry Potter, by the way, and I was looking for a job. Now, that this one is turning eleven soon, I figured I'd try to find a magical job so I could introduce him to the magical world a little bit more. We've been living muggle for close to three years now. "

"A job? How odd, it seems we'll soon be having an opening. How are your defensive skills?"

Harry only gave the man a look that clearly asked how blind he was. The redhead seemed to rethink his own question before laughing, quite merrily, and continuing. "Ah, yes, never mind then. What I will as is: how would you feel about working as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts?"

"Really? Wait, are you the Headmaster?"

"No, but I'm sure once Headmaster Dippet meets you, and I explain what happened today, he'll be more than eager to offer you the position."

~^__^~

Tom could feel Harry's grin, even before he heard it in his voice as Harry thanked the redheaded man. Was this what Harry had meant when he said that he knew Hogwarts would need a knew professor? How was it possible? How could he know something so percise?


	9. Chapter 9

The second time around, Hogwarts didn't affect Tom as much as the first time seeing it, even though it still mystified him. They followed Dumbledore into the building; staying with him through the large, spacey corridors that led to more hallways and rooms, until they reached stone Gargoyles where one corridor ran into another.

With a few muttered words, they were soon following Dumbledore onto a moving staircase. Once they were stationary, Tom heard knocking before a jovial voice called out to them.

"Come in, come in!"

The doors swung open at the greeting, and the three of them made their way in, Harry shifting slightly once he was standing still again.

"Headmaster Dippet, I'm sure you know about the attack in Hogsmeade by now, yes?"

"Of course, Albus, such a pity. I can't believe that people aren't even safe in their homes or communities anymore. Who do you believe it was?"

"I believe it was Gellert Grindelwald, as you well know it is, and that is one reason I'm here. The individual behind me was out with his son today, during the attack a little while ago. He managed to defend the town miraculously, and I would like to speak with you about potentially placing him in the Defense Against the Dark Arts position and laying Professor Gilderoy off."

"Well, I know Professor Gilderoy isn't the best there could be, but how do we know he even knows how to teach. No offense.... Mister?"

"My name's Harry Potter, and this is my son, Tom Riddle."

Harry saw the look on Dumbledore's face as he processed the words, and all Harry could do was smile towards Dippet and hide the ever growing smugness he felt whenever he was reminded that he'd saved Tom, and no matter how well meaning Dumbledore was, the man would never be able to twist Tom again.

"Right, Mr. Potter, have you ever taught before?"

"Yes, only to about twenty people, but it was regularly. They seemed to catch on pretty well; once I taught them something, they were able to teach it to others they knew. So, I can at least say I have the teaching part down. Homework and grading, not so much." Harry said with a grin, a small chuckle escaping him. Dippet laughed with him and Tom giggled slightly.

"You make me do my homework,"

"That's different, you have to learn stuff, muggle and magical, I don't want to grade homework. It's boring."

"I can grade it for you."

"You'll have your own homework to worry about, kiddo."

"Aw, no fair."

"Wait, I don't want to be kicking anyone out of their job, though."

"Well, then maybe a stalemate may be reached. Professor Gilderoy prefers theory to practical, and you seem to prefer practical to theory. Perhaps you could teach, and consult with him, and he could do the grades, homework and tests?"

"Well, I really don't want to impose, I was just looking for work in Hogsmeade. Am I even qualified to teach at such a magnificent school?"

"What do you do for a living Mr. Potter?"

"Wards? I work with people to protect their homes, or remove curses from them, just...stuff." Harry trailed off lamely, one hand moving away from Tom to ruffle his own hair sheepishly.

"Do you work for anyone specific?" Dippet asked kindly, curiously attentive.

"I own The Marauders, I started it in my free time once Tom got a little older."

"The Marauders, you say? The same company that will be called in to do the warding for the Blacks in a few weeks?"

Harry grinned shyly, his hand finding its way back into his hair, "Ah, yeah, wow. I didn't know it was all that famous."

"More like infamous, you do your job well, Mr. Potter."

"I try," he murmured, shifting Tom slightly on his hip. "Do you think I could meet Professor Gilderoy before any of this becomes permanent? I don't want any hard feelings with him. I really could just find work in town."

"Oh, that's nonsense!" This time it was Dippet, "Why don't the four of us go down to the Great Hall for dinner, as it seems time has passed by us without acknowledgment, and we can ask Professor Gilderoy to retire with us for a short time before he turns in for the night."

"A marvelous idea, Armando, shall we meet you there or would you prefer to walk down with us?"

"I'll meet the three of you down there, still much to do before the school year starts."

"Of course," then he turned to the two brown haired boys, "if you'd follow me,"

Harry nodded, following the man back down the spiral staircase and into the endless corridors that he'd spent so many years in so far in the future. They spent a while in silence, and they seemed to pass corridors leading to the Great Hall so many times, Harry knew the man was looking for time. Tom's calm breathing told him that the boy was tired though, so he tightened his arms a little as Tom shifted sleepily and continued to follow Dumbledore.

"So what do you teach, Professor Dumbledore?"

"Transfiguration, my dear boy, you said that you've taught before?"

"Yeah, I had some friends. We created a group, that we playfully called the Defense Association, or DA for short, that would meet a couple of times a week. Somehow, my closest friends got me to lead the group even though I hadn't a clue of what I was getting myself in to."

"Yet, you're going to teach now?"

"I like to help people, everything else is...hearsay, I suppose."

"A gryffindor, then,"

"A who?"

"Gryffindor, it's one of the houses here at Hogwarts. It's named after one of the founders, in this case, Godric Gryffindor. Just as the other three house are named after the other three Founders."

"Oh, like Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff? From Hogwarts: A History?" Harry asked quizzically, feeling warmth bubble up inside his chest as the young version of Dumbledore laughed happily.

"Yes, of course, you seem eager when it concerns your knowledge."

Harry literally blanched, "Ugh, no, I'd like to think I'm rather lazy in the whole studying department. I'm only smart in the things I like. Like defense; sometimes potions, not making them, but knowing what they're for, and Hogwarts was just....magical. I grew up with muggles, so when I saw the book in Diagon Alley, I had to get it for both Tom and me. I don't know who's read the book more, him or me. I never technically finished any type of schooling," Harry said, thinking back to how his seventh year was spent hunting down Horcruxes, "So I wanted Tom to be able to have what I didn't."

"Do you mind my asking how you found him?" Dumbledore spoke quietly, their pace slowly.

Harry could tell the man was curious, you couldn't know Dumbledore for six years and not know the man with his quirks. He couldn't tell if the man wanted to know for his own knowledge, or if he thought there was some other motive behind him taking Tom. Sick of arguing it over in his head, Harry decided the truth was best. He wanted to change the outcome of the future, after all, and what better way than for Tom Riddle and Dumbledore to be friends.

"I was in muggle London for a day when I felt a bout of wild magic," he felt the tension in the air raise slightly, "so I tracked it down. I found him at an orphanage, everyone there treated him so horribly. They locked him in a room for most of his time and treated him like a hell spawn; magical or not, no child deserves that. So, I - uh - kidnapped him, with his willing permission. I patched him up, gave him space, and gave him my trust so that one day he might be able to trust people again. Humans as a race, and not just muggles or wizards. I think he blames his magic for what the muggles did to him, yet he treasures the only thing that kept him safe; while he blames wizards for leaving him with muggles when it's clear he didn't belong there.

"That's how my muggle relatives were: abusive and mean, unless there was an outcome to their advantage. A means to an end. I had great friends though, so in the end it really didn't matter. Things turn out differently when you're always alone, though. I didn't want that for him. He's such an intelligent person, and he's nice...if you know him." Harry finished with a chuckle. "I'll protect him though, it was a promise I made with him when I brought him away from all that."

"You seem to care for him a great deal, even though he's not your biological son."

"Life's too fickle and short to worry about things as unimportant as blood or relations. He's a child; as an older generation, it's our duty to protect him, and any other child out there."

"A perfect outlook to have when teaching in a school of said children."

"Well, not yet, but perhaps. I really don't want to intrude on Professor Gilderoy, it wouldn't be right."

"Nonsense, he's been trying to find an assistant for years, no one wants to work with him. We haven't quite figured out why, though."

"I'm sure they have their reasons," Harry replied dryly. Then, a thought struck him, and he thought now was as good a time as any to approach the subject. "Who's Grindelwald, Professor Dumbledore? I'm assuming he was the blonde man in Hogsmeade, but what did he want?"

There was a pensive silence as they continued to walk on and Harry was glad for Tom's silence. Obviously, the boy was just as curious as Harry was pretending to be, at least Tom and he were on the same wavelength.

"As I was saying to Headmaster Dippet, earlier, his name is Gellert Grindelwald. He used to be a kind man, but his aspirations were not. He believes that muggles are beneath us, that they are...sub-human, so to speak. He believes more still, that half-bloods and muggleborns are even more inferior. He believes that the Wizarding World should be ruled by blood standing."

Enter the decision. Harry knew, without a doubt, that his reaction to Dumbledore's words, would be the light on which would be shown on him every time the two of them spoke.

"Megalomaniacs and their power seeking ambitions, to be honest that's all a little too much work for me. I don't understand why we can't just all get along. If blood matter, then there wouldn't be muggleborns. It's obvious that magic manifests where it chooses. Why can't people just accept that everyone is born equal?" Harry finished rhetorically, his face scrunched up in annoyance.

There was a slight chuckle next to him and he felt his heart flutter; this was so much better than any other time he'd heard Dumbledore laugh, mostly because he was an adult now, and he knew that the older man wasn't just humoring him.

Perhaps here, in this time, they could be friends. Without the barriers of Headmaster to pupil, and protector to protected. With the right amount of devotion, the right amount of truth, and the right amount of co-dependence the two of them could be friends. He'd refuse the manipulations but offer his compromise. He knew how Dumbledore function. Now, instead of playing into everything that would end up annoying him beyond all measure, he could put them on equal footing.

"Yes, I've never quite seen the excitement in it either, my boy."

"Harry, that's my name." he said as he turned towards Dumbledore, slowing his pace. "Just like I'm not going to call you grandpa, or old man, I'd prefer you call me by my name."

Dumbledore seemed to be at a loss as he turned to stare at the man over his glasses, his blue eyes slightly guarded and confused. "But of course, Harry. You only had to say,"

"Thanks," Harry acquiesced, shooting the man a smile, "then, let's go, I'm starved." He proceeded to walk away, heading towards the Great Hall. He ignored the fact that Dumbledore was staring at him, clearly baffled that Harry seemed to know where he was going. It didn't quite matter to the green-eyed man, however, as he led them to the Great Hall and up to the Head Table before allowing Dumbledore to lead them to their seats.

"Perhaps, we can talk in my office after you've spoken to Professor Gilderoy."

Harry gave him a soft smile; just a small lilt of the lips to one side before he spoke, "perhaps another time, Professor Dumbledore. I know you must have many more questions, but, as you can see, Tom is tired. Besides, if things go well with Professor Gilderoy, I'll be around a lot more. You'll be able to ask your questions then. If not, you can always floo or owl me. You seem like a very kind and smart wizard, Tom and I could learn many things from you." Harry said kindly as he turned his attention to his other side, shifting Tom slightly in his seat as he pushed a tuft of the boy's hair out of his face.

"Wake up, love, it's dinner time."

Tom made a play of batting his hand away a few times before his eyes fluttered open and he closed them again.

"'m tired,"

"I know, love, once you're done eating you can go back to sleep."

"Promise?"

"Yes, you can go straight back to sleep, I'll get us home just fine."

"'Kay," Tom murmured, pulling his knees up to his chest as he began to eat slowly.

"He seems to trust you implicitly."

"I doubt he even trusts himself that much, Professor, but I thank you for the vote of confidence. Has Professor Gilderoy arrived yet?"

"No, but he should be here soon, Mr. Potter, not to worry. Things will go fine. I assure you, you won't be putting anyone out."

Harry scrunched his nose up again, but said nothing more on it as he continued to eat, his attention now focused more on his food instead of Dumbledore. By the time he'd finished what he could stomach, Tom was already drifting off, this time he seemed to truly be falling asleep, though. Harry smiled softly at him, truly smiled, and he heard a small gasp from the man next to him as he did so.

He loved Tom, very much so, and nothing would change how he acted with the boy or towards him. Not even when they were in public. He shifted slightly, pulling Tom from his chair and setting him in his own lap, letting the boy curl up and use part of his robe as a blanket. "You sure are tuckered, aren't you, Tom Tom?" Harry asked aloud, even though he knew the boy was too tired to answer. He could tell Tom was done playing for the night, so he kissed the top of his head and quieted, allowing Tom to fall asleep, wrapped in both his arms and his magic.

It wasn't until dinner was almost over that Professor Gilderoy arrived. Harry had been expecting someone as flamboyant as the man's descendent but that didn't seem to be the case. The man wore glasses that seemed to be slipping off the bridge of his nose, and he had various scrolls he was clenching to his chest as he rushed to the head table, setting on Dumbledore's other side.

Dumbledore allowed the man to settle for a few minutes, filling his plate with food and taking a sip of his drink before he interrupted the man.

"Gregory, there's someone I'd like you to meet." Harry tried not to look to eager when Dumbledore turned towards him and Tom with Gregory looking over his shoulder.

"This is Harry Potter and his son Tom, I knew you were looking for an assistant for your classes, perhaps tonight we can discuss the possibility of him working under you?"

"Perhaps, but Mr. Potter is going to need to prove himself, in times like this we have to be able to teach the kids."

"I completely agree, Gregory, I saw him in action with with my own eyes in Hogsmeade today. I'm sure he won't disappoint."

"Yes, well, we'll see."

So they did.

They waited for Professor Gilderoy to finish eating before their small group made their way back up to the Headmasters office. For Harry the walk back to the office seemed to be awkward and tiring. This is what he'd wanted, of course, but all this back and forth was making him tired Especially, since he had to carry Tom both ways. Even though the boy was young, and pretty light weight; his arms were starting to ache and his energy was starting to run low. Professor Gilderoy kept shooting him odd looks, like he couldn't

understand how someone so young was interested in teaching in a school full of children just barely younger than him. Perhaps, he was even thinking how he could have his own child, when Harry knew he barely looked seventeen, let alone twenty.

The trip finished in silence, and somehow Headmaster Dippet beat them to his office. They all filed in, taking seats as Dippet broke out a few glasses of port; Harry declined when he was offered, curling up in one of the large chairs with Tom in his lap, the young boy fast asleep.

"I thought there was going to be a demonstration..." Professor Gilderoy started gruffly, trailing off.

Harry sighed before slowly sliding Tom into the chair he was leaving, "What would you like to see, Professor?"

"How about a Protego charm to start with?"

Harry nodded, lifting his wand he cast it soundlessly. "Would you like to test its strength?"

"No, I can feel it from here."

"How about a binding charm?"

"On you?"

"Do you know any?"

"About thirty,"

"What do you use against a Dementor?"

"Expecto Patronum," Harry murmured, watching the stag come to life in front of him. He ran a hand against the silver head, smiling forlornly when the animal butted it's head against his hand. "You can also use them to send messages back and forth."

"Boggarts?"

"Riddickulus."

"Werewolves?"

"Wolfbanes, stunner, and running?" Harry answered partially, a small amount of exasperation reaching his tone.

"Dark wizards?"

"That would have to depend on their intent."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, if someone is just having a cuppa in Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley, I'm not going to attack them. If they're threatening others, well, that's a different story all together."

"I see,"

"You don't agree with that, do you? You think all Dark Wizards should be hunted on site."

"Well, yes, I do believe that. Why are you so sympathetic to them?"

"I'm sympathetic because they're not all bad, they just got in with a bad crowd and are too afraid to find their own way out with the knowledge if they're caught, they'll be killed."

"So you knew someone..."

"Yes, a very close friend of my mother's was in the situation. He made one bad mistake when he was young, because he wanted to fit in. It haunted him for the rest of his life, even when he switched sides and tried to make up for the mistakes he had made."

"I see,"

"I don't think you do, but it's something to think about. Is there anything else you'd like to test me in, regarding the position?"

There was silence for a few minutes; Harry could tell the man had wanted to continue questioning him on the previous subject, but he wouldn't allow it. Things would be told as time went on, otherwise the changes would be far too prominent in such a short amount of time. For now, he just needed them to trust him, or perhaps just to accept him at face value. Everything else was just an add in. They only needed to know his qualifications, not his past. His past would come later, and it would gain him their trust. Honesty for honesty, and he would have a very good structure for Tom to grow up in.

Dumbledore was difficult though, he always had been. As the old man looked at him, Harry gave him a soft smile before looking over at Tom and pushing a lock of hair out of his face as his breathing blew it back and forth across his face.

"May I talk to you alone, Harry?"

"Of course, Professor Dumbledore," Harry acquiesced, following the man a few feet away from Professor Gilderoy and towards Headmaster Dippet.

"I know it isn't my decision to make, but Headmaster, surely Harry has proven himself to have a strength in the area that Professor Gilderoy does not. Besides, Harry, wouldn't you feel safer being somewhere such as Hogwarts? Especially, with young To-"

They were interrupted by a vicious hiss before they heard Gilderoy let out a yelp.

"Let go, you beast!" He demanded.

The three other adults in the room turned to see him clutching one hand with another as he swung it around erratically. It was quite easy to tell what the problem was, and Harry let out a laugh as he strolled over to the man. He grabbed the snake by its tail and began to pull his arm above his head, towards the ceiling.

"Salazar, let go of him, now, please." He asked in English.

The meter long snake complied, curling up slighting to face Harry as his body dipped into something resembling a ladle. He hissed, "He was touching him,"  
Harry scrunched his nose up in acknowledgment, refusing to speak to Salazar in front of Dumbledore; or anyone else, for that matter.

"You need to behave, or you're going to end up back in that glass container instead of going with us when we go out."

"I don't think he quite understands you, Harry," Dumbledore murmured in amusement.

"Oh, he understands just fine. He's not stupid. We've had him since he was a baby."

"That beast should not be allowed in this school! It's uncivilized!" Professor Gilderoy objected.

"If you wouldn't have tried to touch Tom, Salazar wouldn't have attacked you. So, your fault, your punishment. I'm not going to punish him for doing exactly what he's around for. Just be happy he didn't poison you," Harry threatened, fully aware that ball pythons weren't actually poisonous. He doubted Gilderoy knew that, however.

"Why, I never,"

"Calm down, Gregory, he's having you on. No serpent in the python family is venomous. I do think I agree with him, though; surely you don't expect to bring a serpent into the school. Only owls, cats, rats, and toads are allowed."

"I know that, but I promise, Salazar won't cause a problem. Tom feels safe with having him around, and I won't take that away from him. Not for any reason."

"How long has this serpent been with him?"

"Almost three years, except for the first summer when we took him outside and he got lost in the backyard. We have a forest in the back, so it took a while to find him. He spent three months brushing up on the instincts that captivity bred out of him," Harry said with a laugh, remembering how worried little Tom had been when his snake had disappeared only a few weeks after he'd gotten him. Only for them to find Salazar and have Tom scold him all the way home from where they'd found him in the brook one day.

"I summarize then, by your admittance, Mr. Potter that you would be ...ah....resistant to us denying this creature, yes?"

"Correct, Headmaster, he's part of the family. I can't quite shake him off, besides, Tom would be miffed that I bought him a friend only to him take him away later. That's a breach of trust I"m also not willing to deal with at this point in time."

"I understand, if I were, per chance, to put the guideline that Salazar, your snake, may stay on the premises that he doesn't harm anyone on the school with the consequence of him being removed, would you agree?"

"Of course, but only if you give the allowance that if someone attacks my son in spite that Salazar is allowed to attack them. Not maime them or choke them, merely strike as a warning to discontinue their behavior."

"No spite driven attacks but he's allowed to protect his wizard. I think we'll be able to agree on that, if you agree to come on as Professor Gilderoy's co-teacher."

"I've already told you, I don't want to impose. I know he's been here, and that you're the Headmaster, but I still must insist that it's Professor Gilderoy's choice to as to whether or not I'll teach here." Harry murmured, repeating himself as he held Salazar to his chest and watched Tom fondly.

"Well...you seem pretty fearless; handling snakes, throwing yourself into raids made by dark wizards, speaking to both the Headmaster and Professor Dumbledore as if you're on the same level they are. I think, perhaps, it's time the students met someone like you. Someone who doesn't waver, I fear I cannot give them the type of confidence they need to use the spells they will learn. Perhaps, you will succeed where I know I have failed." Gregory murmured, his voice a grudging acquiescence.

"What about my son? He's a few months younger than the cut off date, and I was wondering if he could be allowed in early?"

"I'm afraid not Mr. Potter, the rules are the rules; if we break them for you, we'll have to make exceptions in the future. If there's one thing I do pride myself in, it's following the rules. Even though sometimes my deputy and I disagree in that area." The man finished fondly.

Harry realized that he'd never truly learned what happened to Headmaster Dippet, only that Dumbledore had taken his place. With an ache of regret, he realized that Dumbledore must have replaced the man by force to retrieve the position of power for himself. If there was one thing Dumbledore was not, it was fair. The man used his power and his privilege to play favorites and grasp hold of the things around him that he wanted close to him. He was attracted to power, and he used the power he had to draw those other powers towards him.

"I understand, but if that's the case, then I'll be commuting here everyday. I won't leave him at home by himself."

"Well, that won't work, you should be on the grounds at all times, especially since the students might need your assistance."

"If Tom was attending classes, he would be staying in the castle, but since he's not, then I would also assume you wouldn't want him here unsupervised while I'm teaching. I don't presume that many other teachers have children?"

"Well, no, but surely an exception can be made." Headmaster Dippet murmured.

"But didn't you just say - "

"We need all of our teachers to be here during the school year, Harry, and I think that perhaps that is what Headmaster Dippet is trying to say. Perhaps, it's not so much an exception as a need. We can't deny the boy his father either way." Dumbledore intervened.

Harry grinned on the inside as he turned towards the other man. "Of course, I'll have to talk to him though. I'd like to have a condition set in place, however. Two, actually. The first being that you allow him to make use of the school's library, and the second that you don't require me to spend my meals in the Great Hall. Not until he's sorted, that is. I think it would be odd for him to choose a table, and I don't think he can very well sit at the head table with us as we eat. It would cause him to stand out, and I don't want him treated any differently than the others."

"If you must, then I suppose we can do nothing but agree. Since term begins soon, I think it would be wise if you move your needed possessions here as soon as possible. The last few days before term tend to fly by without anyone really realizing it."

"We'll be moved in by the end of the week, Headmaster, if that's alright."

"Of course it is, of course. By then, Gregory will show you the Defense Classroom and the office you will be occupying."

"All right, by then, hopefully, I'll be able to explain to Tom what's going on. Thank you very much for the offer," he looked over at Tom and Salazar with a fond smile, "but it's late, and perhaps I should be going. My son needs to be put to bed."

"Yes, yes, the time does escape us. Do you need help?"

"No, perhaps just an escort to the main entry way. From there I can get us off the grounds, I'm sure." Harry allowed, moving over to Tom, he shook the boy slightly, "Come on, Tom Tom, it's time to go home."

"Harry?" the boy murmured unintelligibly.

"Yes, put you're arms up, love, we're going home."

Tom listened, still partially asleep as he raised his arms tiredly and Harry scooped him up, cradling him against his chest easily as he stood and faced the other three in the room. "Where to?"

Dumbledore moved from his spot, stepping forward. "Come, Harry, I'll lead you out and leave these two to the formalities of our agreement."

Harry only nodded, following Dumbledore out of the room and through the winding labyrinth that Hogwarts seemed to create. Dumbledore stayed quiet, seeming to be content to lead them out of the school without interrogating Harry again.

"Will he be dreadfully stubborn?"

"I've told him I would try to get him into Hogwarts a year early. I think he'll be disappointed. I don't deny him much, so I think he'll be slightly put off because of it, but he'll live. Besides, the library will keep him occupied."

"I see,"

"Not now, but I'm sure you will, sir. I think I have it from here, though. Two rights and then a left into the main hallway, correct?"

Dumbledore paused, looking back at Harry who hadn't stopped walking. "Yes, that's right."

"All right then, Albus, I'll see you the next time we're at Hogwarts." Harry said, finishing the conversation as he continued past the older man and towards his destination.


	10. Chapter 10

By the time the Hogwarts Express was arriving at Hogwarts, Harry and Tom's rooms were completely personalized with their possessions from home. It'd only taken three days of whirlwind activity to get their room just the way they wanted it. A long, messy, unorganized three days that was stressful from minute one, but a fun and productive three days nonetheless.

Tom seemed to be adjusting well, slightly irked and grateful all at once that he wasn't enrolling this year as a student. Harry realized that by the time Tom was a first year, he'd already know the castle better than someone who had the marauder's map.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

As the sorting ceremony started, Tom tried not to be too stunned as he sat next to Harry at the Head Table. It was the only meal, besides the ending feast, that they would attend during dinner. It seemed like a hundred or more people came up to sit on the stool for the sorting hat, but that also could have been the evening dragging on for Tom as he heard the hat shoot out house after house. Students looked at him oddly before attending to their meals once Harry had been introduced as the Defense Against the Dark Arts assistant for Professor Gilderoy. The students didn't seem to care about it as much as the staff did, so the night went on. Students were dismissed to their dorms and the professors back to their rooms.

That night was just like every other. They went to bed in their respective rooms. The castle felt much more like home than anything else, and neither had nightmares.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Harry hadn't thought it possible to actually ignore Tom for a long period of time, intentionally or not, but he learned otherwise with his first year as an actual teacher at Hogwarts, and not just the leader of the DA.

He realized he was doing it after about a solid month of meals, classes, grading and sleep. Gilderoy seemed to take his post as assistant for granted, and most often than not Harry felt as though he was teaching and dealing with the work for the Defense Against the Dark Arts classes alone.

He knew it was making Tom sad, he also knew he was having problems balancing work with Tom. They still spent their meals together, but Harry usually ended up skipping breakfast and lunch. Then, by the time dinner rolled around he was too tired to do much else than eat.

He'd take a nap afterward and then wake up to grade homework and classwork before struggling back to sleep in the early hours of the morning.

So the weeks leading up to the Christmas holidays while everyone else was assigning homework, Harry wasn't. He didn't do much actually. He had the students go through practicals so he wouldn't have to grade anything or assign anything since it was all hands on review.

He became more energetic by the day, until the Christmas holidays had actually arrived. He'd been spending a little time with Tom each night before bed, snuggling with the boy on the couch instead of grading the tests from two weeks ago that he'd been putting on hold until the new year.

Tom seemed to be wary at first, becoming accustom to being alone since they'd gotten to Hogwarts, but after a few nights he became more relaxed again. The two fell into a rhythm they had lost since moving to Hogwarts. One that both of them missed sincerely even though they were too insecure to point it out..

As of now, Tom was snuggled into Harry's side as the older man read to him, the fire burning nicely in front of them as they relaxed. Harry had one arm around Tom and the boy would turn the pages of the book Harry held with his other hand.

"Harry?"

"Hm?"

"You're not going to ignore me when classes start back up again, are you?"

There was silence for a small period of time where Harry felt absolutely ashamed of himself as he heard the conflict in Tom's voice. As if the boy was trying not to be hurt by his own words. Harry set the book down and cradled Tom to his chest.

"I'm sorry, love, I hadn't meant too. Things had become a lot more busier than I thought they would have. I'll try not to do it again, but I can't promise you anything. I think, though, that with a little bit more thinking ahead that I may be able to take care of my classes better."

"If that idiot isn't helping you, why don't you talk to the Headmaster?" Tom asked scathingly.

"Well, I don't want to cause any problems, if he gets in trouble or kicked out for some reason, it won't be because of me."

"I don't like you ignoring me...it feels like before you found me."

Harry squeezed the younger to him tightly, inhaling the smell of his hair as he made a choked sound in the back of his throat. "I'm sorry, Tom. Perhaps, I could talk to Professor Dippet about the over abundance of work, maybe to just work with the older years until I get used to the work."

"Yeah?"

"Yes, I promise I'll talk to him, even though I don't want to cause any conflict. I don't want you to feel left out, you're the single most importance in the whole wide world to me." Harry murmured, nuzzling his five o'clock shadow against the young boy's face until Tom was squirming and giggling as he tried to get away.

"Hey, come on stop that! It hurrrts!" Tom whined, pushing against the older man's face as he laughed hysterically.

Harry only grinned widely as he began to tickle the boy with his hands, pulling his face away to look at the boy's joy as he squirmed and laughed.

The emerald eyed man pulled away once he realized Tom was laughing so hard he could barely breathe. He took in the boy's features; a slightly flushed face, his mouth opened slightly allowing pants and gasps to flow out of his mouth as he tried to gain his breath.

Tom would think he was just happy, excited. Harry knew it was a entirely different type of excitement and he cringed inwardly as he cut that thought off. Tom was turning eleven in a matter of days. It wasn't fair to think those thoughts at all. Even though he knew that's how Tom saw him, he refused to see the younger wizard in that light.

That's what he tried to convince himself of anyways. He could hear the small voice in his head that said, very quietly and very certainly: at least not for now.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Tom was put to bed a few hours later, protesting his bed time but also falling asleep as he was slowly moved to his bedroom. He was hanging onto Harry, almost asleep by the time they reached his bed.

Harry was left to tuck him in as Tom slept heavily on.

The rest of the Christmas holiday was relaxed, Tom opened up more and more after the first night as Harry ignored his work more and more to pay attention to the boy.

It was while they were walking around the castle talking one day, while Tom showed the older man all of the cool places he'd discovered when he wasn't in the library, that they ran into Professor Dumbledore. The man smiled at their impish behaviour as they sneaked around, trying to pretend that they were invisible as they slid up behind the older wizard, and he decided to ask them to the Christmas feast, even though they weren't required to come. Harry had looked at Tom and the younger had shrugged in an 'I don't care' motion.

"Wonderful! You'll be able to meet our Board's Director then, I'm sure it will be a pleasant evening. I'll be off and let you two back to your game though, good night young Tom, good night Harry."

"Night, Albus," Harry answered back for the two of them as they took off down the hall once again, giggling.

"Why does he want you to meet the Director?"

"His way of saying it's someone important that I should know."

"Then why didn't he just say that?"

"Because somethings are better left implied rather than spoken out loud. It's a trust thing, and also, it keeps people from thinking he's planning something."

"He is planning something though, right?"

"Not specifically, but others don't need to know that. With all the dark wizards causing trouble lately, it's best to be polite and flippant. You don't want anyone thinking you're up to anything suspicious."

"Wait, is this a Slytherin thing?"

"Well, I suppose some might say that, but it's mostly a self-preservation thing. If you don't incriminate yourself, then you won't be incriminated."

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

The two were so caught up in their silliness throughout the entire holiday, that when the feast actually did roll around, they dressed up in ridiculously flamboyant Christmas colors and silly hats. Harry's was a Christmas tree that kept trying to unwrap it's own presents. Tom's was a beautiful glass bulb that kept trying to check itself in any reflective surface while it murmured how smooth and shiny it was. The comments of their hats had the two laughing throughout most of the day and even during most of dinner.

Neither saw the Director when they arrived, but it didn't seem to dampen their mood at all. Both were just too joyful for anyone else to mess it up. Their antics also seemed to lighten the mood in the Great Hall as teachers and students alike laughed with them.

Dinner soon began to settle and the students leaked out slowly, some to spend time with their significant other and some to curl up in front of the common room fire to relax with a full stomach. The staff stayed though, enjoying the company of their fellow colleagues. Just as Harry was beginning to think it was time to take Tom upstairs, because the boy was nodding off slightly, a man arrived. He walked straight up the middle of the Hall like he actually belonged in the school. Harry thought the man looked strikingly like Lucius Malfoy, if a bit more masculine, and seemed to be in his fourties.

The man met his eyes and smirked with a flirt of his eye brows. Harry thought of how he must look, his face slightly flushed from his fullness and the enjoyment of the evening with his hair all mused up from the hat now resting on the table. He could feel his face heat further and turned away, towards Tom, when the stranger smiled at him.

It was more than a few moments after the exchange that Headmaster Dippet stood from his seat merrily and welcomed their guest enthusiastically. Professor Dumbledore was much more blase about the situation, offering a welcome and handshake to the man as he sat down next to Dumbledore in the seat Gilderoy had just vacated.

That left him sitting right between Dumbledore and Harry.

The green eyed man only flushed further and tried to turn his full attention on the dozing Tom.

He seemed to find the blonde man unerringly attractive. He couldn't phantom why and he didn't want to admit he did, but the older man sent his blood rushing in all the wrong directions.

It was probably just sexual frustration, though. He hadn't had sex since he'd left his time, that much time without sex (or even some alone time) could kill a bloke, or so he'd think anyway.

Now that he thought about it, however, he seriously did need some alone time. Especially, since the man he was practically orgasming over (for no reason, might he add) looked old enough to be his father. He almost blanched at the thought.

He was just looking over the play of candle light on Tom's hair for the third time when Dumbledore called his name, literally pulling him out of his act of ignoring the man next to him. As soon as he turned towards Dumbledore, he was practically face to face with the blond.

"Harry, you remember me telling you of the Board's Director? Yes, well, this is him. Abraxas Malfoy, please allow me to introduce you to Harry Potter, Harry this is Abraxas Malfoy."

"A strong name to a strong presence." Abraxas murmured just loud enough for Harry.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Malfoy."

"Please, call me Abraxas,"

Harry tried not to snort at the man's words. Really, the man was so full of himself. Just like every other Malfoy he'd ever meant. As he stopped to think for a moment, consumed in his thoughts, he realized how biased he was towards the man in front of him. Even though he'd never met the man, only his spawn of a son, Lucius.

Harry supposed Abraxas had reason to be full of himself though, hadn't the Malfoys been particularly popular during this time? That was beside the point. Didn't he know what modesty was?

Well, he was a Malfoy. Harry supposed that was explanation enough.

"Of course, sir,"

Abraxas let out a slight sigh but smiled fondly at Harry. "So you're an assisting professor here?"

"Yes, for Defense, but more days than not it feels like it's much more than it should be." Harry said melancholy.

"How so?"

"Oh, well, Professor Gilderoy usually writes out the lessons plans and gives them to me. Then I teach all the classes and deal with all the work he's assigned."

"He doesn't help?"

"Uh...I mean, I don't want to get him in trouble. I'm sure he's just as busy as I am, if not more!"

"Nonsense, Gilderoy has never been in everyone's favor. He prefers to research and use his position at this school to gain knowledge. It was only a matter of time before we found a replacement for him."

"Well, in that case...I just didn't want to put anyone out by telling," Harry said truthfully.

"Would you like to take over the position full time, Mr. Potter? Or would you rather we continue to look for someone else?"

"Well, with the work that Professor Gilderoy has issued, it's hard for me to stay caught up..."

"You will, of course," Abraxas cut off, "be able to change anything you feel necessary."

"I suppose that would make things easier,"

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes," Harry replied with a smile, "it is."

"Wonderful, Professor Gilderoy will be gone by the start of the second term. You'll be given his office and any things related to the class. Do with them what you wish." Abraxas spoke in a no-nonsense voice, clearly using his authority voice.

Harry went to thank the man and cut himself off with a yawn, giving the blonde man a sheepish look. "So, it seems the evening has taken it's toll on me. You'll have to excuse me,"

"Why don't you go to sleep?"

"I could stay, it doesn't ma-"

"No, I insist; it seems your little brother is sleeping already."

"Who? Tom? He's not my little brother, he's my charge. I'll introduce him to you the next time you're here."

"I eagerly await such a time."

"Great." Harry agreed as he excused himself from the table, wishing the remaining professors goodnight as he scooped Tom up into his arms and took them back to their room.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

A few days later, the rest of Hogwarts was celebrating the New Year.

Harry on the other hand, was baking a cake for Tom, humming happily as Tom sat on his back, watching over his shoulder as he made the cake.

"Are you sure you don't want to celebrate the new year with the rest of the professors?" Tom asked, his voice slightly self-conscious, that's how it sounded to Harry anyway.

"I'm positive. I'm going to have much more fun with you."

"You're always with me though, wouldn't you want to make friends with some of the other professors?"

"Nope, now let's see, what do you want in it?"

"Blueberries,"

"Oh, good choice,"

"We had bananas last time,"

"I remember, it smelled like baked bananas for like a week."

"Yeah, it was great." Tom said with a laugh as he wiped some flour onto Harry's face. "Can we make cupcakes too?"

"Yeah, we could, what kind?"

"Chocolate?"

"Raspberries too?"

"Definitely!"

"Alright, let's go out side afterward and race,"

"You usually win,"

"Yeah, but you're catching up to me really quick. You're eleven now, by the time you're sixteen, I bet you'll be able to outrun me."

"Yeah, by then I bet I could." Tom agreed, reaching over Harry to stick his finger in the cake mix before sucking on it. "Sweet,"

"You have the worst sweet tooth ever,"

"Yes, I do."

"Come on, help me pour it."

"Alright," Tom murmured, dropping off Harry's back to stand next to him. They spent about a half hour pouring the mixes into molds and waiting for them to cook. After they'd had their fill, they took themselves outside.

They were totally absorbed in their own world, as they usually were, while they enjoyed each others company.

They ran later, racing through the bright snow in the darkened night. With their teeth chattering together and their faces flushed with the cold. They spent the rest of the night curled up in front of the fire together, falling asleep together contently.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

"Harry?

"Yeah, Tom?" Harry asked as he looked up from grading papers, a much smaller amount of grading now that Gilderoy was gone.

Tom was standing in his doorway, clutching a book to his chest.

"You said you'd teach me anything, right?" Tom asked hesitantly, only his voice betraying his slight nervousness.

"Yeah, why, what's up?" Harry asked, pulling off his glasses to rub at his eyes before turning his full attention on Tom and setting his glasses on his desk.

Tom only stared at him instead of answering, it was the first time since he'd been adopted that he'd seen Harry without his glasses, acting so nonchalantly. He'd messed with the man's glasses once, when he was younger, while Harry was taking a shower. There was no way Harry could see him. Those glasses had given Tom a headache for hours.

"You're blind as a bat without your glasses." Tom muttered instead.

Harry grinned at him, lounging back in his chair and throwing his feet up onto the desk as he stretched. "Yeah, well, come on over here," he patted his lap, "and show me what you've got. Great distraction from doing my own homework." Harry murmured, taking a glance at all the ungraded papers on his desk, compared to the graded ones.

He could use a break, he'd be at it for at least another four hours once Tom left him alone, so what was a small break to rest his brain, he didn't particularly like monotonous motions.

Tom blinked a few times before walking slowly over to the older man, climbing up in his lap and laying against Harry's chest as he opened the book in his own lap.

"Well, this book describes the Unforgivables, which sparked a memory of a certain visit to Diagon alley-

"That wouldn't have been so traumatizing if you weren't such a hot head."

"You're short tempered as well,"

"Oh, I know that. I just never thought you would be angered so quickly. I'm so used to seeing you calm, cool and collected. Not a drop of sweat or a peak of emotion on you." Harry murmured, running a hand through Tom's hair.

He could tell the other boy was blushing, knowing full well Tom was indignant about Harry's teasing.

He cleared his throat and continued on though, both ignoring and enjoying Harry's hand in his hair. "So the spell you used back then was illegal, how come you weren't caught?"

"That answer will allow you into more trouble than I want to deal with right now, ask me again in a few years. Just allow me to say that there are ways."

"Crucio, or the Cruciatus, causes immense pain?"

"Like you wouldn't believe, it's like someone's lit every one of your nerves on fire, only to put them out and do it again. Believe me, I know, it's not a nice thing at all. It's not something to use in large quantities, or at all, actually."

"What happens when you kill someone with the killing curse, when you use Avada Kedavra, what do you give up in exchange for taking another person's life?"

Harry pulled Tom closed to him in a hug and buried his face against the boy's hair. "Oh, Tom, my smart little Tom," Harry murmured, feeling his eyes burn as he held the boy.

"What? What's wrong?"

"I'm just proud of you is all, you do, honestly, realize that in exchange for taking someone's life you have to give up something as well, right?"

"Of course,"

"You give up a part of your soul, Tom. Your soul is ripped apart, and a part of it disappears."

"Can't you save it?"

"No, you can capture it and lock it to this world, but it's a sad existence. You'll live in pain everyday that it exists. It's also bad luck to do such a thing, you shouldn't cheat fate or karma like that, it's all part of magic,"

"What about...the imperius curse?" Tom asked, slightly hesitantly.

"Well, there's no reason to actually be wary of it, Tom. As long as you have a stronger will than that of the caster, you can break the spell. The more you break the cast, the less the spell will work on you. Before too long, you won't even have to think about fending it off. It just won't affect you."

"Does it ensnare you?"

"Not anymore, there was one person who could, but he's not around anymore."

"Who was he?"

"I'll tell you when you're older, kiddo."

Tom seemed disappointed, but he let it go as he snuggled back into Harry and continued to ask about things he was unsure of.

~LLL~

During the cold months, Salazar spent a lot of time curled up in a basket by the fireplace, practically hibernating through the first few months.

Harry went through his classes of the day, slightly less anxious of what Tom got up to during the day then he had been when they first arrived. He spent most of the day declining Valentine gifts by a lot of girls and some overzealous boys that made themselves known through notes. He smiled though, when classes were finally over, and he could go back to a small sense of normality once he was back in their rooms. He wasn't used to people showering attention on him, well, not for anything besides being the Boy-Who-Lived anyways.

He arrived back to their rooms as he always did, tired and ready to sit in front of the fire with Tom to go over what the boy was studying. When he arrived though, he noticed that Tom had a casual dinner ready, probably having conned the house elves somehow, and he was holding something behind his back, smiling awkwardly. Harry smiled at him softly as he sat down for dinner where he usually did

"Hey, Tom Tom, what's up?"

"Don't call me that," the boy whined, scrunching his face up. An almost exact imitation of what Harry did when he was agitated. Harry smiled at the unconscious gesture the boy had adapted from him.

"What have you got, Tom? He asked curiously. The boy flushed before shoving a package at him.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Harry!" Tom all but tripped over his own words as he shoved the package into Harry's lap, looking at him expectantly to open it. Harry did so and smiled, taking out a dark chocolate frog with cherries inside. He caught the frog before it could get away and took a bite before handing the rest to Tom and putting the box away for later. He absolutely loved those chocolate frogs. Tom was definitely getting a really good Christmas and birthday this year.

"Hey...aren't valentine's supposed to get kissed!" Tom pouted, "I promised you I'd buy you chocolate, you're supposed to kiss me now."

Harry held back a snort, his face flushing as he looked at the serious boy in front of him. "Oh, how daft of me." He murmured, "All right then, close your eyes."

Tom did so, and Harry leaned forward, giving the boy's cheek a soft kiss and smiling brightly as eyes opened to look at him, slightly annoyed but also filled with wonder.

"Thank you, Tom. Now, let's eat, the couch is calling us. I want to hear all about your day."

They ate dinner quietly and comfortably. Once they were both done, they navigated to the couch. Harry lit the fire as Tom snuggled against him. Telling him about his day, and what he'd been studying lately. How everything was fascinating at Hogwarts and he'd almost read half the library. He even mentioned Dark Arts, a barrier unconsciously falling when Harry didn't reject him like he thought the older man would. He talked about the children who teased him because he wasn't a student, and how he was a weirdo for not talking to anyone. People even teased him for reading his books.

Harry only told the boy that they were jealous, and a lot dimmer than Tom himself. That Tom should be proud of himself because Harry sure was, and everyone else really didn't matter. If they were going to make fun of him, they weren't friend material. Not the type of friends Tom needed at any rate.

The boy was lonely though, and Harry knew that. Especially, since Abraxas has slowly making his way into both of their lives, even though Tom disliked the man with a vengeance. Harry couldn't deny that he liked attending the balls and lectures that the other man would invite him to though. He didn't like Abraxas, per se, but he got on well enough with the man to consider him a friend. Not a friend like Hermione and Ron had been, but perhaps a friend like Fred or George. He'd do things with the man, hang around him, but he wouldn't take him in. He wouldn't talk to him like he used to talk with Ron. He wouldn't talk with him how he talked with Tom.

~LLL~

"Why do you spend time with him, anyway?" Tom asked flippantly as he watched Harry getting ready. As the older man finished pulling his hair into a pony tail, he answered. "Well, he's interesting, and I don't have many friends. Besides, the conversation is engaging."

"Engaging?"

"Uh, yeah, being at a school and having lived in the muggle world, I don't get many chances to interact with wizarding born wizards. People who have lived here their entire lives."

"So you don't like him?"

"Like him...oh! No," Harry said with a laugh,"I most definitely don't," he finished as he moved to pull Tom into a hug.

The boy came willingly, slightly more relaxed as he nuzzled against the older boy for a few minutes.

"He's just a new comity, I'm sure I'll get bored of him eventually. Don't worry about it, he's just a friend, okay?"

"Okay, when will you be home?"

"Maybe two or three hours, I'll be home by ten thirty at the latest, though. You good?"

"Yes, I am, have fun?"

"I'll try, get your bottom in bed before I get home, though. No waiting up."

"Fine," Tom replied grudgingly as Harry mused his hair and left.

As soon as the door closed behind the other man, the strongest look of jealousy consumed Tom's face. He had the most gut retching feeling, just thinking about Abraxas being around Harry. The man was such a...snake, and Harry was too blind to accept the fact that some Slytherins actually lived up to the house reputation.

He kicked his foot against a few pillows that he and Harry had been sitting on earlier. He was angry, enraged, jealous, hurt...betrayed. The one thing he hated, had realized he hated, but had dealt with it because it was Harry, was how oblivious some people could be, how thick.

He knew Harry knew he fancied him, but some times the man just got so caught up that he forgot the most evident things. He was stuck on Abraxas, so he was forgetting Tom. It was that simple.

Or so Tom thought at any rate.

~LLL~

Later that night, Tom was asleep, curled up on the couch and clutching one of Harry's pillows to his chest with a book laying haphazardly on the floor. Tom had obviously dropped it in his sleep. Therefore, he muddily heard the portrait open as Harry's laughter carried through. There was another voice, asking to come in. The voice coy and deceiving. Tom turned his face into the pillow and turned his attention back towards sleep as he felt the burning in his eyes.

That was the scene Harry arrived to. Tom curled up on the couch, his knuckles white from clutching one of the older boy's pillows. His cheeks marred with tear streaks.

He'd just denied Abraxas entrance into his and Tom's rooms. Their sanctuary. Now, it seemed that their sanctuary had been shattered slightly anyway. He pulled Tom up from the couch, cradling the boy to his chest as he took them to his room. He laid Tom in his bed before changing into more comfortable clothing before climbing in next to the boy.

He awoke to an empty bed and an empty suite of rooms. Tom was gone already, off to where, Harry could only guess. It was Saturday morning, early morning at that, and Harry could tell he'd been alone in bed for a while now.

He decided to go to breakfast that morning in the Great Hall, his mind clouded by worry.

Arriving in the hall, he saw Tom. The boy was sitting at the Slytherin table, surrounded by all of the children that were fourth year or above. He knew that the boy really didn't have any enemies, especially not in Slytherin, since most of them wanted to get on Professor Potter's good side, or inside Tom's pants. Harry knew the rumors surrounding Tom. He was a brilliant child, a special child who was allowed to do as he wished at Hogwarts who all the teachers adored. He was an asset to anyone. Harry wouldn't shelter him though. If Tom wanted to make friends, then Harry wouldn't stop him. Especially, since Tom wanted to make friends for all the wrong reasons. He'd let the boy make his own mistakes though, and hopefully learn from them.

Even though he'd had trouble with most of the children earlier in the year, especially the younger ones who'd teased, things had settled down once Tom's

During all of breakfast, though, Harry wished he could hear what the Slytherins were discussing. No matter what had been changed in the future, and in this time, he knew Tom would be a Slytherin no matter what. It was literally bred into his blood.

Tom didn't look at him once through breakfast and he realized that Tom might actually be getting caught up in his own game of trying to give Harry a taste of his own medicine. He was using this as a way to get back at Harry, by ignoring him; by making associates of his own, because Harry's knew the boy's intentions had not been to actually make friends. Now, as he watched on, however, he realized that Tom was basking in the attention that the others were giving him. Maybe this would be good for Tom, even though it would probably end badly. The boy needed to broaden his horizons and his relations. He couldn't live with only Harry's interactions and expect to grow as a person. He needed to learn how to deal with the masses. He needed this, he needed the emotional growth, even though it would end up pushing the limits of their relationship at the moment with the fragile state last night had put it in.

He didn't understand, he'd thought that when he'd left that Tom had been fine. The boy had obviously asked about what was ailing him. He didn't want Abraxas to come between them. He was afraid that Harry might like the man more than he liked Tom. That wasn't true though, and he'd told Tom as such.

There wasn't any need for the boy to be so...jealous.

With that thought though, he realized that Tom was trying to stake his claim. One that he was far to young to make. He wanted Harry to come after him, to prove that no matter what Abraxas did, the older man was no match for Tom. Someone who was thirty years his younger, at least.

Harry actually blinked down into his goblet as he finally sorted it all out in his head. Tom was jealous, he wanted Harry's attention focused solely on him. As it had always been, until now.

He also realized that while he loved spending time with Tom, there were things he did with Abraxas that he'd never introduce Tom to. With that thought in mind he smiled to himself and drained the rest of his goblet as he made up his mind.

Relationships changed all the time, people never stayed in neutral. As he stood from his seat, the teachers' room to the side of the Head Table opened. Headmaster Dippet, Dumbledore and Abraxas came walking out. Harry smiled to the man, waving to catch his attention.

The blonde was more than pleased as he took in Harry's enthusiasm, waiting for Harry to make his way towards him. Instead of the handshake the two usually shared, Abraxas slung his arm around Harry's shoulders, leading the younger man out of the hall as they began talking. Neither noticed Tom's absolutely furious glare as his attention was ripped away from the Slytherins around him by the two men.

~LLL~

"So what's it like, living with Professor Potter?" One of the Slytherin fifth years asked him, she was leaning towards him, he eyes wide as she fluttered them at him. Tom hid his disgust as he answered.

"It's...normal; he helps me with my studies, we play outside, we celebrate the holidays."

"Does he push you in your studies much?"

"No, he helps me when I need it though, he's like a walking encyclopedia."

"I never would have thought so, he doesn't seem so much into academics, unlike some of the other professors."

"He's more of a hands on type of person, but there hasn't yet been a subject I've come across that he hasn't known something about."

"Then, know that your lucky, my father pushes me in my studies to the point of cruelty," one of the Slytherins sulked. He pushed food around on his plate as he continued,"it's almost too much. There's never any chance for anything more. He pushes me from home while I'm here, and when I get home, almost every waking moment is filled with tutors and studying."

"My parents are the same way, but I also have to attend etiquette lessons and play dates. I never get to play quidditch or go outside. It's like I'm at school every waking moment. It's horrible."

"Does professor Potter do anything like that?"

"No," Tom replied, quietly thankful,"he gives me my space, some times we go running together or go to a play or something, but mostly we leave ourselves to our own devices."

"You're lucky, Riddle, you don't have someone hovering over you ever waking moment. I wish I had a life like that, even if you are a half-blood."

Tom's face turned dark, "Professor Potter is a half-blood, what does that have anything to do with this?"

"Don't you know, Riddle? Half-bloods, mud-bloods, muggle-borns. They're so much more inferior to us, real wizards. The ones who have pure-blooded parents. You're blood is tainted, Riddle, you'll never have the power or prestige someone like me would have."

Someone threw a napkin at the boy who was speaking and gray eyes broke away from Tom.

"Shut up, Black, leave him alone!" Another Slytherin shouted from further down the table.

The 'Black' sneered, turning his attention away from Tom and back towards his breakfast.

The boy who'd thrown the napkin leaned forward over the table so Tom could see him.

"Don't listen to him, Tom, he's just saying that because he comes from a Dark pure-blooded family," the boy ignored the heated glare Black sent his way, continuing to talk,"He's just being stuck up, don't bother with him. I'm a half-blood too. There's nothing wrong with us. It's just another way for them to think themselves better than everyone else. Besides, who wants to be apart of the society that encourages incest."

Tom watched in an almost horror as Black abruptly stood from his seat and punched the boy who had been talking in his face.

"Shut up, you muggle lover! That's not what it's about, we just decide that we'd rather keep wizards with witches rather than dirtying ourselves with those cruel muggles. The ones who have no magic at all and live on in such obliviousness. They treat our kind so horrible, how can you stand up for them!" The demand was rhetoric and everyone treated it as such as Black sat back down in his seat, the Slytherin table quiet. The scuffle went almost unrecognized since most of the teachers had left for their classes already.

"I agree with you," Tom said some time later, when things went from an awkward silent to just a quiet silent. He stood after he said it, "I agree completely, muggles are disgusting and deserve nothing but extinction."

He caught Black's eyes before he left, realizing that he'd said just what he'd needed to for Black to associate with him. The only thing he realized at that moment, was that the words out of his mouth had been the truth. He hadn't been lying to the boy. That was his honest opinion, and he ruthlessly squashed the doubt and anxiousness in him that suggested to him that Harry might not exactly approve of his outlook.


	11. Chapter 11

Tom was in the library about a week after the first time he sat at the Slytherin table. Everyday afterward, except when he was caught up studying, he would have his meals at the house table. No one would dare say anything to him, since it seemed Black had accepted him, and that seemed to be the word among the Slytherins. That Tom could tell so far, anyway.

He was just getting engrossed in the basic concepts of Transfiguration in a deeper part of the library, where few people went unless they wanted solitude and silence, when he heard someone clear their throat softly beside him.

He looked to his side, towards the noise, to see Black standing there with a slight smirk on his face.

"Hello, Tom," he greeted.

The younger of the two furrowed his eye brows slightly at his first name but responded in kind, "Hello, Black. "

"What are you doing here? Why are you alone?" The black haired man asked lightly, walking slowly and gracefully over to the table, sliding like the snake he was compared to into a seat across from Tom. He leaned slightly towards the middle of the table, only a small distance away from Tom. The small table between them argued little for personal space.

"I'm just looking into a few things, and I always come alone. Why would I want to bring some fool along to distract me?" Tom asked rhetorically as he looked back down at his book, trying to ignore the man in front of him.

"What are you looking up?"

"Transfiguration,"

"Why would you look up something so menial?"

"Well, I've already gone through most of the books on Dark Arts, Potions, Arithmacy, Charms, and Defense; so, I thought I'd look up the last main topic of the curriculum. It's not like I have much else to do."

"All of the books, or only selected ones?" Black asked, slightly intrigued. He watched Tom flip through the book in his hold, biting his lip slightly as he tried to read through some of the text while still listening to their conversation.

"Mostly the informative ones, if it only mentioned things vaguely, I threw it to the side. It's quite annoying to have a spell described but its named not mentioned just because it might be considered dark...or illegal." Tom added as an afterthought. He folded the corner of his book before shutting it, resigned to the fact, that he may have to take this book back to his rooms tonight since Black was intent on holding his attention.

"Is it all just theory, or practical as well?"

"I'm pretty well off in practical, there's only a few I haven't tried, for obvious reasons," Tom murmured, "why do you ask?"

"Curiosity, you've been such a mystery ever since you arrived here. We'd all thought you'd just be another boring child of a professor, but you're so much more now that I've been able to talk to you."

Tom felt his face flush slightly, only Harry ever spoke to him like that. He stomped on that thought before it ruined his mood and focused his attention back on Black with a small smile.

"Well, I don't know how I feel about being boring, I have it on good terms that I'm a terror,"

"Why'd you chose Slytherin, Professor Potter seems more like a Ravenclaw or a Gryffindor, isn't he annoyed with you for choosing our house, what with its reputation and everything people say about it." Black elaborated, focusing on Tom with an intensity that unnerved the younger boy slightly.

"He's really...relaxed. He's not the type of person who would condemn you for what house you're in or what side you choose. He judges people on their actions and...their heart." Tom spoke the word as if the very idea was foreign before he continued on, "It really doesn't matter though. He's not really my father, everyone knows that. Well, mostly everyone, we look alike, but he adopted me."

"Oh? That's why you have different last names?"

"Yes, my last name is after my biological father, a muggle. My mother's last name was Gaunt."

"Gaunt?"

"Do you know it?"

"You're positive that's what it is?" Black asked, cutting Tom off.

"Yes," Tom replied agitatedly, he remembered the papers from the orphanage, not that he'd tell Black that, but he knew that was his mother's maiden name.

The older boy only smirked wickedly, lifting a hand to ruffle Tom's hair, then sliding it down to cup the back of the boy's neck.

"We're going to be very good friends, Tom,"

"Is that right?" Tom asked bluntly, feeling heat suffuse his face with the hand on his neck, but also feeling awkward with the young man's touch.

"Yes, that's right." Black said as he pulled away, "By the way, my name is Arcturus. If anyone asks, you have my permission to use it. Only the older Slytherins know it, and most of them aren't allowed to use it. You should feel honored."

"Thank you, then, for the privilege," Tom answered, he'd meant to say it sarcastically, but it came out in an almost mystified tone of voice.

Arcturus seemed to be pleased by both the words and his tone of voice as he turned to walk away. "I'll see you around then, Tom." He said the younger Slytherin's name in such a way that Tom closed his eyes and savored the sound.

How could someone insinuate so much in one word; especially a name, which under normal circumstances wouldn't have much of an actual meaning. He drew a deep breath and gathered himself, both exhilarated and annoyed. He was beyond excited that Arcturus had approached him. The young man was one of his few idols at Hogwarts. He had so much power over most of the students, especially the Slytherins.

On top of that, people practically tripped over themselves trying to acquiesce his wants and needs. That's what Tom hoped for one day: people who were more than willing to do what he wanted and asked, without having to actually say anything to prompt the action. He wanted to be the center of someone's world. No. Not someone, everyone's.

That was much easier to handle, he wanted to be the center of everyone's world, and not have to worry about attachments that would hurt him or infuriate him.

With that thought, he gathered his books and left the library to attend dinner. If Harry could play around, why couldn't he? It was almost the end of their first year at Hogwarts, if things were like this now, how would they be by the end of his Seventh year?

Besides, if Harry could do it, Tom could do it. He wasn't the type to back down from a challenge, even if a gauntlet had never actually been laid down.

A devious look consumed his face as he made his way to the Great Hall. He managed to wipe it partially off his face as he entered, making his way towards the Slytherin table; more specifically, towards Arcturus. He caught Harry's eye, having felt the older man staring at him. He held the green gaze for a few seconds before deliberately turning away, and seating himself next to Arcturus.

A feeling of empowerment rushing through his veins as the Black heir ordered his ensnared admirers to make room for him. None of them questioned Arcturus, or Tom, they old did as told. There were welcoming greetings, and small talk, but nothing became confrontational or out of the norm. They welcomed him and silently acknowledged that Arcturus favored Riddle and they could do nothing about that.

"So, what do you plan on doing for the summer hols?"

"Nothing in particular; I'll probably spend most of my time with Salazar in the forest."

"Salazar?"

"He's my pet ball python, he likes to play hide and seek in the wood behind our house,"

"Maybe he just gets lost,"

"No, he likes to play; he thinks he's being sly when he tries to trip people. He finds it humorous."

"You speak as if he's able to talk,"

"He can talk,"

"In snake language,"

"Exactly, he speaks in Parseltongue, what did you think I was talking about, English?"

"You understand Parseltongue?" Arcturus whispered, leaning his mouth towards Tom's ear before pulling back to search the younger boy's eyes for an answer.

Tom only smirked as he leaned toward the other boy, "Of course I can," he hissed for the Black's ears only. Giddiness overtook the older boy as he stared at Tom in a stunted wonder. "Bloody wicked," Arcturus murmured, raking his eyes over the younger boy. A lust in his eyes that Tom didn't realize.

He did realize, though, that he loved both Arcturus' attention, and pleasing the other boy.

"You won't tell anyone, though, will you? It'll just be our little secret, right?" Tom murmured, a lilt taking over his voice as he stared at Arcturus with hooded eyes.

Arcturus' guard dropped slightly, almost unnoticeable as he looked at Tom with a slight softness, as he answered. "No one else will find out,

"Thank you, Arcturus," Tom answered quietly; enthralled by the power he had over the older boy. He'd reacted exactly how the younger boy had wanted him to. Tom had played him easily, almost too easily. Was this really the Black-Hearted King of Slytherin?

Tom thought that Arcturus' green and arrogance made him sloppy and weak. He was glad he was smart enough to learn from the mistakes the people around him made. Nothing was worth demeaning yourself like Arcturus was, leaning on every one of his words. He was completely throwing away his reputation, which had taken years to earn, just so he could, literally, have a piece of Tom.

The more Tom pointed out Arcturus' intentions, though, the more he didn't seem to mind them.

~LLL~

"So where's Tom?" Abraxas asked as he sat down on the couch as Harry handed him a cup of tea before sitting down next to him in front of the fire.

"He spends a lot of time with Arcturus these days."

"Arcturus Black?"

"Yes, what of it?"

"Well, nothing, of course, but his family is fairly dark."

"So?" Harry asked quizzically as he pulled his legs up, so his knees were against his chest. His tea balancing on his knee.

"You don't mind that Tom may be pulled into the darker side of this world?"

"Why must their always be sides?" Harry questioned tiredly, "He can do as he wishes, he can learn from his own mistakes. Why, which side would you prefer him on?" Harry asked curiously, laying his head on the older man's chest as Abraxas wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"Would it matter?"

"No, it wouldn't," Harry confided firmly. He felt a tenseness in Abraxas' body diminish as the man spoke,

"How are you so amazing?"

Harry felt his face flush and awkwardness consumed him, "I don't know so much about amazing, I'm just me."

"How odd, are you sure you're Slytherin material?"

"I was never in Slytherin; I was self and home taught."

"Curious and curious,"

"I live to impersonate the mysteries of the world, Harry Potter, at your beck and call. So what's it like, being the Director of the School Board?" Harry asked, changing the subject as he drained his tea and set the cup and saucer on the floor. He put his head back on Abraxas' chest and the man pulled him closer.

"Very uneventful, I go to lunch meetings, answer questions, and make an appearance every now and again. Usually, I just sit in my office and answer the questions of people who have no idea what they're doing. How about you? How's teaching at such a magnificent place as Hogwarts? What did you do before you began working here?"

"Well, Hogwarts is great. The kids are great, the flexibility is great. I don't get out much, so it's great you come to see me. It's safe, and it pays well. I still do what I did before I came here. It's a job that follows me, I guess, since I was the one who started it. I own Marauders Warding. I do the odd job now and then when I have the time, or I schedule them for the summer."

Abraxas pulled away from him, turning to Harry to face him. "You own Marauders' Warding? The company that did the Black's warding, and the Parkinson's and whom even I've employed to protect my manor?"

"I don't ever remember your name, I remember a Malfoy, but it was a woman." Harry responded quizzically.

"That would be my wife, Harry,"

"You're married?" Harry asked in astonishment.

Abraxas' laugh reverberated throughout the room as he shifted Harry's hair fondly. "Did you think I wasn't?"

"Well, I mean...how old are you?"

"I'm in my thirties, I'm not dreadfully old I'll have you know. Most wizards live until they're at least a hundred and fifty, and even then they usually don't look older than their sixties or seventies. Once you hit the one hundred and fifty mark, though, I'm afraid age seems to become evident."

"You look older, though, I thought you were at least forty,"

"The joys of being a distinguished gentleman, I suppose. I have to say, when I was younger, it was to my advantage. I was never accused of being underage."

"Must be nice, I still get carded in muggle London and Diagon Alley alike. Except in the muggle world, they think I've somehow faked my identification. That in its self is weird."

"What's it like, living in the muggle world?"

"Will you tell me, in return, what it was like to live in the wizarding world all of your life?"

"Of course,"

"Well, it's simple. There are just some things you'd rather do on your own. Like cook, I don't mind cooking and most times it relaxes me. There's also more for us to do. Before I adopted Tom, I lived a very active life. I would run a lot, train, and study. I brought some of that with me, and Tom occasionally goes running with me in the forest behind our house. We read a lot; Tom went to primary school before Hogwarts and I spent my time building Marauders' Warding. I guess it's very quiet. Everyone's fairly nice, and people don't pry. We get by on our own. Usually, I have problems when I come into the Alleys. I remember a horrible encounter with a supporter of Grindelwald a while back that left me dangerous for days."

"Do tell," Abraxas urged.

Harry could feel the man's curiosity, almost as if it was a palpable thing. He wondered if it was curiosity about Harry, or the information he could gather about the supporter from that day.

"Well, there's nothing much to tell, Tom and I had a bit of a row and he took off. The man was holding him by his scruff, dangling him a few inches off the ground. I can't say I reacted very well, but I think the man learned his lesson."

"A cutting curse that was lethal with trace amounts of the Cruciatus curse left in his body," the murmur was filled with amazement as Abraxas looked Harry over once again with a new respect shining in his eyes.

"As long as you don't hurt me or the ones I love, I don't care what side you're on. Well, I suppose I do care, but there's nothing I can do about it. So it's not here nor there." Harry finished quietly; curling back up besides the blonde man as he wandlessly urged more wood towards the dwindling fire in front of them.

Abraxas didn't even nod; he only laid his arm back across the couch, partially around Harry, and changed the subjects, talking about meaningless things. Things like people breaking etiquette during important meals, things he'd done as a kid that he couldn't believe he'd gotten away with, how he couldn't wait for a child of his own and how he hoped his child was like Tom.

Harry noticed the entire time that Abraxas tenseness left him, he obviously wasn't used to people accepting him so easily, even if his choices were his own to make. It was the fact that they were different and dark.

He also realized that the man didn't mention his wife again, which he was both grateful for and annoyed by. Surely, his wife deserved more or his dedication, loyalty and attention than he obviously offered towards her. Were the times so different? Or was it a pure-blood thing? He realized that Lucius had been the same way about Narcissa, although as far as he knew the man had never been unfaithful towards her.

At least Abraxas son had inherited some type of respect.

~LLL~

It wasn't long before final exams were taken. The older students taking their NEWTS and OWLS, while the younger students trudged through the torture of comprehension exams that their professors had created for them.

Tom was more of a tyrant than usual, and Harry thought it must be related to the fact that Arcturus had spent the last month preparing for his OWLS and spending less and less time with Tom until it came to the point where the boy was back to spending his evenings in his and Harry's rooms. It was very odd, and very uncomfortable, to be in the same room with Tom. To be in their rooms and still feel as if they'd never known each other for more than a day in their lives. The distance was terrible; all Harry wanted to do was pull the boy into his arms and erase the past four months from their lives.

The more he wanted to pull himself away from Tom, and let the boy stand on his own, which he was futilely trying to prove he could. The more Harry wanted back what they'd had before coming to Hogwarts. He wanted long nights talking about books they'd read, discussing theories or histories, or even just sitting by the creek by their house as they enjoyed the warm weather.

This didn't feel right, and Harry knew that when something didn't feel right, it probably wasn't in the right. That might be his Gryffindor sensibilities shining through, but the conscientious part of him was usually bulls eye for these sorts of things.

It was going to be a very long summer, one he hoped that he and Tom could work through. Every time he tried to make it better, it only got worse. Tom was smart enough to know how those things worked, maybe if he talked to the boy, again, they'd be able to work something out where they weren't pushing each other further and further away. Even though some of it was unintentional, he knew some of it was knowingly. Besides that, he didn't want to drift so far apart that in the end there was nothing left to pull them back together.

He didn't want bridges he needed around him to be burned down just because he was too stubborn to turn a water hose on.

He pulled himself out of his thoughts and glanced around his room before slamming his trunk shut and locking it, everything he'd need for the summer was packed. Now, he just had to wait for Tom and they'd be leaving to the train station so Harry could apparate them home.

He shrunk his belongs and dropped them into his pockets. Even though this had felt like his home, before, and sometimes it still did, he had a home in London. That was his home, Hogwarts was just a place, and it wouldn't be there forever (hopefully, it would) and he needed to stop holding onto things that made him feel safe. He had to be strong for himself and Tom.

He was supposed to be here to help Tom, to give him what he hadn't had growing up. He couldn't do that if he was absorbed in everything and everyone else.

He left his room to help Tom finish packing his things.

"How's your friend, Arcturus?"

"He's fine, he said he'd write to me over the summer, said we might be able to spend some time together."

"You probably could, I don't know how comfortable he'd be in the muggle world, though, so you'll have to find out where he lives so I can take you to visit."

"Really?" Tom asked, a slight surprise coloring his voice.

"Of course, he's your friend, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is."

"Alright, then, you can go see you friends if you want to during the summer, as long as it's okay with their parents. Do you have everything?" Harry finished with.

"Yes, are we taking the train home?"

"I'm afraid not, it's the end of term; you'll have to excuse me. I just want to go home and curl up with a good book and a roaring fire. If I didn't enjoy working with the students so much, I'd seriously say this job had more bad parts than good. What about you, what are you going to do when we get home?"

"I haven't decided yet, maybe go to sleep,"

"Do you want to stop for anything before we go home?"

"Like something to eat,"

"Maybe, or maybe something to do over the summer when you're not with your friends? A game, some books?"

"Can we go a different time? I just want to go home and unpack, it's been a long and tedious school year."

"It has been, hasn't it?" Harry asked wryly. "Just think of what it'll be like when you actually attend classes."

"I rue the day that I'm forced to sit in a classroom with the cretins you call students." Tom said agitatedly.

"I'd have to agree with you on that actually. I never liked being in classes with people I didn't know. I guess that's why I never attended any type of schooling like Hogwarts," Harry spoke from his memories of classes he had without Ron and Hermione those first few years as he sympathized with Tom as he lied, "we're going to have to work on your patience and people skills if we don't want you in detention every night."

"I doubt I'll get detention, most of the teachers like me for the sheer fact that I tutor my friends in their classes. It'd be really redundant for them to punish me. Then they'd just be punishing themselves with their students' stupidity."

"Too true, you're ready to go then?"

"Yes, I'm ready,"

"Alright, then, off we go." Harry said with a beaming smile towards Tom.

The boy nodded and hoped the awkwardness of Harry trying to communicate with him wouldn't last the entire summer. He preferred the give and take of his friendships with his Slytherin friends as compared to the never ending guessing game he seemed to be playing with Harry.

It was a learning game, though, he supposed. The more they both tested their waters, the more they knew about the other and their boundaries. Tom didn't think it'd be long before they knew exactly how to incessant the other with nothing but a few words. He didn't like the thought of always being at ends with Harry though, especially because of verbal barb-wiring back and forth just because they couldn't be mature about things.

Even though Harry was being an idiot now, and Tom was using his own game against him, it didn't mean he didn't still like the other boy. He didn't want Harry to disappear from his life, ever, and while arguing once and a while was fun. He never wanted it to be about serious issues, especially ones that would decide whether or not he would continue living with Harry.

The man might have adopted him and taken him from the orphanage, but he could just as quickly abandon him as he'd taken him up.

He let his mind trail off that line of thought though as they both arrived in their living room.

"I'm going to go to bed,"

"Kay, we'll go out for lunch tomorrow and then we'll try and get in contact with the Blacks to see if you can go over, like you wanted too."

"Really?"

"Yep, sleep well, Tom."

"Good night, Harry," Tom replied, happiness bubbling up in his stomach. Maybe things wouldn't be so bad this summer. He'd thought Harry had changed so much during their time at Hogwarts, especially since meeting Abraxas, but now that they were home, things seemed so…normal.

*^*^*^*^

They ended up going out into muggle London to get something to eat, and Harry reveled in the freeness he felt, not having to worry about which wizard was on which side of the war. He had a swagger to his step that was relaxed and smooth as Tom seemed to walk stiffly besides him. He didn't allow the other boy to get to him, however, as they made their way to the restaurant. An overzealous hostess seated them before a perky waiter requested their beverage preference.

The place was quiet and dim, and Harry felt his relaxation settle further as he and Tom ordered their meals. Neither one spoke to break the silence before their food arrived. Harry dug into his as soon as he got it, so it took him a few mouthfuls to realize that Tom wasn't eating. He was just glaring at someone behind Harry.

The older man could feel the magic licking at his sense as he warned, "Tom, don't you dare."

"What do you mean?" the young boy asked, staring over Harry's shoulder at the muggles at the table.

"If that food leaves your plate, I'll ground you."

"You wouldn't."

"That's what you think."

That is obviously what Tom thought because in the next few seconds, two things happen. One: Tom's food disappeared off his plate. Second, the muggles began screaming as food fell from the ceiling.

"Give me your wand, now." Harry hissed furiously. "We're going home and you're in your room."

"No."

"_Accio_ Tom's wand. Yes, we are." Harry then signaled for their bill, his food forgotten, and his mood sour and angry.

Once the bill was paid, Harry stood from his seat quietly, the mood between the two strained. He grabbed Tom by his upper arm and almost wretched him out of his seat; the younger boy hissing at him to ease up. Harry ignored the parsel words though and basically dragged Tom out of the restaurant like the angry 'parent' he was.

He only stopped for a moment to apparate them before he let go of Tom as if burned.

"Go to your room, now." He spoke coldly and precisely, too pissed off to do much else. If Tom said one more thing or did something else to further Harry's ire, the older man didn't think he could hold his temper. Thankfully the younger boy only glared hatefully at him before moving off to his room, slamming the door once he'd entered.

Harry, just like his little look alike, started slamming things around as well, mostly the cupboard doors as he got a towel, a crystal glass and a bottle of fire whiskey.

He filled the glass up to the point some sloshed out before he slammed the bottle down on the counter, grabbed the glass, threw the towel over his shoulder and headed to the shower.

He balanced the glass on a towel rack that was right by the shower, one where he could shower and reach a few inches to gather his drink without it being watered down. He turned the hot water on before stripping and stepping in.

Tom.... Tom was horrible. If he wasn't sending Harry's sexual frustration soaring, he was being a deviant of a whole other sort. Harry sighed, frustrated, as he reached over to take a swig of his drink, enjoying the burn it made on its way down. The slight pain clearing his mind.

He went through the motions of his shower monotonously, mechanically as he scrubbed his skin like it was sludge instead of flesh.

He'd downed the rest of his whiskey before he'd finished his shower, the room encased in steam as he stumbled out of the shower. He felt slightly dizzy and realized a hot shower was going to make the alcohol he'd drunken affect him faster.

He left the glass on the rack and fitted the towel around his waist, the cold air in the hall a shocking change from the steam warmed bathroom. It didn't stop him from dragging his feet to his room and crawling under his blankets from the bottom of the bed and burying the side of his face against his pillowed as he fell asleep in the bath towel, his hair still wet and his world slightly tilting.

*^*^*^*^*^*^

It wasn't hard to catch the pattern the summer was destined to follow after the first few days. Tom was stubbornly obtuse, and Harry held his infamous temper in check as long as he could.

That was to say, after about two weeks, he finally relented and let Tom ship himself off to Arcturus' for the next two weeks. It was a quiet day after he finally told Tom he could go to his friends. The boy was more even tempered, smug even. Harry was alright with that, though, because as soon as Tom had left, he'd laid down on his could with a tumbler of chilled whiskey and enjoyed the silence until he felt lethargic enough to go to sleep.

The next evening, he owled Abraxas and they arranged to have dinner in Diagon Alley, Abraxas' treat. So the man insisted, at any rate. Harry wasn't going to turn him down, though, so he spent a few hours before their dinner getting ready.

He foolishly criticized himself in the mirror, wondering why he was getting so worked up about a stupid dinner with a stupid blonde who was married.

Harry tried to convince himself he was just doing it for fun, and failed horribly. With a deep breath, he deemed himself ready for dinner before Apparating to their meet up spot across the way from the restaurant.

Abraxas was already there, and for a few brief moments, he thought he was late. The man smiled as he began apologizing and waved him off.

"Nonsense, you're on time, early even. I just wanted to get here before you so you wouldn't get lost or worried. I know you weren't raised in the wizarding world, from our talks, so I thought I'd reassure you by being early."

Harry tried really hard to squash the fuzzy warm feelings he was experiencing before he smiled happily at the man and reached for his hand. "My own personal escort, how dashing!" He joked as Abraxas took his hand in stride and linked it with his own.

"Yes, I do try,"

They both walked in a comfortable silence, the night's warmth enjoyable.

"So how has your summer hol been so far?" Abraxas asked as he slowed his walk to a linger as the two of them began to hold a conversation.

"In a word? Hell. Tom's been off the wall the past few weeks. I understand he's growing and he has new friends and influences, but he's just so erratic all the time and angry. It's like he lives to undermine me."

"Maybe he's jealous," Abraxas suggested.

"Why would he be jealous?" Harry asked, feigning innocence as he offered Abraxas a quizzical look.

"Well, when you adopted him, it was just the two of you. Perhaps he's angered that you spend your time with your classes and me. He doesn't seem to be one who shares."

"No, he's really not. I thought we'd settled that during the spring semester, though. We were doing alright, awkward but alright, until we went out to dinner the day following the beginning of our break."

"What happened?"

"Well, we went to dinner, as I said, but we went in muggle London, and he ended up dumping his food on the muggles across from us."

Abraxas began laughing before he even realized what was happening and Harry had a put upon look on his face as he glared at the man, "It's not funny," he said before cracking a smile, "okay, it is, but he shouldn't have done that! Spite breeds ignorance and hatred. There's so much more to live for in life, rather than supremacy over beings that have nothing to do with our world."

"So you don't agree?" Abraxas edged.

"No, I don't care! So long as no one is killed or hurt, I don't care what anyone thinks!" Harry stated vehemently.

"Such an idealistic way of thinking,"

"I'd like to think revolutionarily optimistic." Harry pouted.

He smiled as the arm entwined with his own pulled him into a hug and he laughed as Abraxas buried his face against his neck and nuzzled, sending ticklish feelings all throughout his body.

"If only everyone thought like you, the world would probably be a better place. Disorganized and crazy, but better."

"Hey, I'm not crazy,"

"I never said or implied anything of the sort. Now, I believe I promised you dinner."

"Yes, yes you did," Harry answered softly as the man led him to a beautifully lit and decorated restaurant.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

"How was Arcturus'?"

Tom shrugged and Harry could tell he was stopping himself from saying something nasty, so Harry let it go.

"You ready to go back to Hogwarts?"

"I guess."

"Alright, then," Harry said awkwardly, "I'm here if you want to talk." He offered lamely before going to his room. He wasn't running away though, he did have summer work to grade after all.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

The summer continued and ended in silence, the awkwardness between Tom and Harry so evident they didn't even try to break it anymore. It left Harry in a funk, though, and during sorting ceremony Harry couldn't even bring himself to clap for anyone while they were sorted. Not even when Tom was sorted into Slytherin.

Then, when the food appeared lavishly on the tables, he picked at a few things, never really actually getting the food into his mouth.

He was completely and utterly ready to bury himself back into the work of being a teacher like he had been when he'd first started. It was very valid and easy distraction from the mess that was becoming his personal life.

He missed his evenings with Tom; he missed playing with Salazar and Tom in the woods behind their house. He missed the plethora of questions that Tom would assault him with at any given time in a quest for more knowledge. He missed the times where they would sit in silence and walk away having had their own silent conversation.

He missed a lot of things; he couldn't decide which hurt most, though, the things he missed, or the fact that the person who he'd shared them with seemed to not care for what'd he'd lost.

Either way, things would probably only get worse before they got better.

He only wished his insight now was as bad as it had been in Trelawney's class.

*^*^*^*^*^

"Stupid mudbloods," Tom said in passing as he and Harry made their way to their rooms. Tom frowned slightly as he felt Harry stop. He turned to the man and unconsciously took a step back.

"Give me your wand."

Tom did so automatically, very used to this sort of 'punishment,' Harry would ground him by taking his wand.

"When we get to our rooms, straight to bed. I don't want to hear a word from you. Then, when we have breakfast, in our rooms tomorrow, you can explain to me why I'm grounding you for the next week and a half."

"Hey! Tha-"

"Shut up, Tom, you're not going to win this one. Room. Now!" Harry practically shouted. The people who had stopped to watch the DADA professor dress down his son almost cringed.

Professor Potter rarely, if EVER, raised his voice.

Tom pouted, his stance absolutely rigid and angry as he took off at a calm, but pissed, pace to their rooms, trying not to show everyone how he really felt.

It was embarrassing, mortifying even, to have Harry do that. Especially in public with people he interacted with daily, with people he was finally getting to know because he was starting to fit in.

It was downright betrayal! Harry never did things like that in public. He'd never called Tom out on his behavior in front of people. Not even if the people couldn't tell or hear what was going on.

The action made him furious, his stomach twisting in a way he'd never felt before. It almost felt like he was going to be physically sick, and he felt his eyes burn with that and the notion of humiliation Harry had inflicted on him.

That was one thing he hated, when he was at the orphanage nothing mattered, no matter what punishment he'd get for whichever reason, but here, with Harry, it hurt so much more, and for a moment Tom realized why. He actually cared about Harry. He cared about what the older man thought about him, strived to be a 'good boy' for him, so others wouldn't hate him, so Harry wouldn't hate him.

If this was the result, what was the point? If he couldn't even satisfy Harry, who had told him he'd accept him no matter what. To the point Tom had believed him! Then who would accept him? Tom snarled as he entered their rooms; stomping to his room as he acted his age for once, before slamming the door loudly.

Harry cringed as he heard the door, his pace much slower as he entered their rooms. He almost had half a mind to follow the boy and dress him down some more for such behavior. Instead, he sighed as he closed the portrait door and headed towards his liquor cabinet. He wasn't exactly a person who enjoyed drinking for the acquired taste.

He usually drank it to drown his conscious so he could fall asleep and be able to carry out Tom's punishments. If he could make it through the night without apologizing because of guilt, he could wait out the punishment easily. It was just his stupid Gryffindor Martyrdom. He couldn't help it. It had nothing to do with Tom; it did have everything to do with Harry's conscious though.

He could never tell when he'd push the boy too far, or if he was doing everything right, or maybe there wasn't a right and he was just fucking Tom up further and setting him up for failure. Really, though, what type of example was he as a parent? His own had died when he'd barely been over a year old, and every other authority figure in his life either, lied, died, or manipulated him.

That wasn't a really good track reference of influential figures in his life. Harry just hoped he had enough common sense and compassion to continue to care for Tom, and some type of Slytherin wit to keep him from leaving. For once, Harry wished that the Sorting Hat had been right the first time. That he would have been best off as a Slytherin. What better way to befriend a Slytherin than to act like one, or rather be one.

He rolled the bottom of the glass on the coffee table by the fire, watching the amber liquid trace the sides of the crystal in waves as it changed colors as the fire reflected off it.

It was hard, and he'd realized it for what it was many times. That whole 'being a parent is a learning thing.' Well, that was true at any rate. He didn't know what to do; whether to discipline him or let him have free reign. He didn't exactly know what had caused Tom to become Voldemort, not precisely anyway, but he knew he'd do anything prevent it.

He took a gulp of the amber liquid before closing his eyes and he leaned back on the couch. He tensed all of his muscles for a few seconds before letting them relax and taking a deep breath.

He woke up a few hours later, or at least it seemed that way, to the sound of water running from the shower. He realized Tom was awake and sighed. He moved slightly, his body seizing from the stiffness. It was slightly painful and he realized he'd dropped his liquor throughout his sleep. He slumped to the side and closed his eyes again as he lay out on the couch. He wasn't used to being angry; he also wasn't used to sleeping in the coldness of a room whose fire had died through the night without a blanket to cover himself.

He felt a chill through his body and shuddered slightly, feeling sluggish. He really hoped he wasn't sick. Now, that he thought about it though, his first year teaching at Hogwarts had been stressful, but now that he was teaching and Tom was attending classes, things became indefinitely harder. He rarely slept now, rarely ate. He was actually surprised that it'd taken this long to get sick. He whimpered quietly as he curled up on the couch, lethargic and hazy; his mind falling back into a state of incoherence. Oddly, he heard a door closing, or something similar, perhaps, far away. It was inconsequential to him, so he focused on breathing, his eyes closed because when he opened them the world spun as he tried to keep them open.

He heard shifting, and thought that perhaps he was imagining it. He was, after all, asleep. Besides, it was cold, so very, very cold, and Harry let out a shaky, keening breath as he felt the cold seep further into his body.

Then there was warmth, a small hand shaking him as a voice called his name, then he heard the word dad spoken in hysteria before there was warmth everywhere and not just in the small hands that had been shaking him. It was silent for a long time, and Harry thought he'd finally succumb to sleep again before there was brightness in his vision that he couldn't ever compare to something he'd seen previously, as cold, strong hands lifted his eye lids, one by one and then felt his forehead.

He felt dizzy, the room was disorienting; he felt arms around him, arms lifting him, it wasn't Tom though. The room continued to spin, the motions rising in intensity before he was settled onto something he distinctly recognized. It was his bed.

He heard muffled sounds, voices, maybe. Then the surface dipped and a warm, small body held him as he shuddered from the cold. Was he still shuddering? He thought he'd stopped, was Harry's final thought before he succumbed to darkness and silence.

Harry awoke warm, and foggy, he felt a weight on his side that was the source of his heat. He quickly realized that he also didn't feel like he was close to death anymore. He blinked a few times to clear his vision, noticing a head of black hair and instantly recognizing the body as Tom's. He studied the boy's face, noticing the tear tracks that painted shimmering lines down the young boy's face. Harry smiled softly, almost sadly.

Tom was twelve now; in the four years he'd been with the boy, he'd never seen him cry. He'd seen eyes bright in frustration, but he'd never saw tears.

Perhaps it was a testament to the progress he was making, even to him, Tom seemed like a normal little boy. Sure, he acted out sometimes, but it was mostly in retaliation to other children bullying him; or to get Harry's attention, it was usually the latter.

Abraxas was right, though, and Harry knew that.

Now, though, he also knew he was jealous that Tom spent all his time with Arcturus. Almost as if he thought Harry didn't understand him anymore.

They really were too much alike.


	12. Chapter 12

Tom waited in silence, trying to gauge Harry's reaction as his heart beat raced. After a few moments of nothing he threw himself onto his bed with an angry sigh. Infuriated and euphoric that Harry hadn't come after him for slamming his door.

They didn't slam doors, and they didn't lock doors; for the past few months though, they didn't even need doors to put distance between them.

Even before the words came out of his mouth, Tom knew they weren't the right things to say. He didn't know why he was following his friends' examples towards mudbloods, and he didn't know why he found enraging Harry so much easier than getting along with him now a days. He liked seeing some type of response out of Harry besides his stupid smile as he just agreed with everything that was tearing them apart!

Tom shook his head to get rid of those thoughts as he took a deep breath. He resigned himself to climbing under his covers and going to bed. He wasn't going to go apologize. He wasn't wrong; it was Harry's fault they weren't getting along.

That's what Tom was telling himself anyway.

* * *

He woke up groggy and overheated as he sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. He looked around blearily and realized that he still had a few hours, at least, before classes started for the day. He wondered, however, why Harry hadn't woken him up. Usually, the older man woke Tom up early enough to take a shower so they could have breakfast in their rooms.

He shrugged it off as Harry still being angry at him. He got out of bed lazily, moving to his dresser to pull out a set of clothes for his morning shower.

He couldn't believe how unfair the older man was being. Life wasn't fair, Tom knew that, but it seemed that Harry was going out of his way to block Tom at every turn, and that wasn't going to continue to happen. Not if Tom had anything to say at any rate.

He washed almost obsessively, making sure he was completely clean, like he always did, before getting out of the shower. Once he'd dried off and changed into his clean clothes, the towel hanging from his wet hair, he stepped into the hallway warily. As overbearing as Harry could be sometimes, there had never been a time, that Tom could remember, when Harry hadn't been active in the morning. He'd check on Tom every so often, to remind him breakfast was getting cold or that classes started soon.

As distant as they'd been, and as much as they'd been arguing, Tom had to ask himself if he'd really pushed Harry so far away that the man didn't care to do things like that anymore. He felt the dread and anger hit his stomach as his eyes burned slightly and his throat closed minutely. He padded down the hall quietly and ducked into Harry's room, looking around the empty space to realize the room hadn't been touched the night before. He doubled back to his room and grabbed his wand before padding softly towards their living room.

"Harry?" He called softly. He heard a shifting noise before calling again, "Harry, this isn't funny!" He spoke at a normal level. His voice sounded like a shout in the quiet room.

He moved further in to see Harry on the couch, a glass knocked onto the floor where it laid in the puddle of its contents.

"Harry?" Tom moved closer, almost as if he expected the man to jump up and scare him, he called again, though without any type of movement or response from Harry, and felt his anxiety rising quickly. He rushed to the man, shaking his shoulders as he dropped to the floor besides him. "Harry, wake up, wake up! Harry! Dad, wake up!"

As Tom realized shaking and screaming wasn't going to wake the older man, he sprinted from the room, screaming.

"Help! Someone help!"

It didn't take long for students and staff alike to stop and stare. To Tom's chagrin, Abraxas was the first to come up to him anxiously asking, "What's wrong, Tom? What is it?"

Tom tried to control his breathing enough to answer, ignoring the gasps to his admission, "It's Harry, he won't wake up. I tried to shake him, and I even yelled, but he won't wake up!"

Before Tom could even continue, Abraxas grabbed his small hand in his own and took off at a run towards Harry's quarters, yelling as he did so, "I need the mediwizard in Professor Potter's rooms immediately!"

Tom only heard the hushing of students as the professors tried to keep them away from his and Harry's rooms as Abraxas dragged him in that direction. He went with the motion without any resistance, hurt and fear curling deep in his gut as the man led him back towards Harry.

Was all their fighting worth it if something like this could possibly take Harry away from him? Was all this childishness worth it in the long run? Had he forgotten how precious life could be? How easily it could be taken away, at the most inopportune times? Had he forgotten the stories of his mother?

Abraxas dropped his hand when they entered the room Harry was in, before rushing to the other man. He lifted Harry into a sitting position as he put a few fingers against the curve of Harry's neck, his other hand pushing Harry's hair away from his face. Abraxas felt Harry's forehead, presumably checking for a fever. Then the mediwizard was there, and Tom watched as Abraxas was pushed out of the way too and the witch went to work on Harry. She made disapproving sounds every few moments as she moved her wand in patterns Tom could only describe as random, even though they were probably intricate spells he'd never know of.

"Very malnourished, sleep deprived, over-worked, stressed, and most likely worrying his little heart out. It's not a wonder the poor dearie passed out cold!" She admonished. The words were aimed at no one, but Tom felt them deep in the pit of his stomach as he analyzed Harry's behavior again.

The man was such an easy person to read, even when he wasn't. Stubbornness, anger, new rules; Harry wasn't just being a jerk. He was being jealous, he was hurt; he was reacting the same way Tom probably would if their positions were reversed. He was trying to maintain some control on the situation, trying to replace a sense of normality between them.

Tom could understand perfectly now, and he felt so very guilty, even though he knew Harry was at fault as well.

"Must he go to the Infirmary?" He asked quietly, his voice cracking suddenly.

The adults in the room looked at him awkwardly for a moment before the mediwizard decided to speak, "I suppose he could stay in here, if there was another adult to take care of him. That does not include you, Mister Riddle. I mean a real adult." She stated firmly.

Tom's gaze almost dropped to the floor in disappointment. He didn't want Harry anywhere besides here, in their home. His head quickly rose, however, when he heard Abraxas speak.

"I'll take care of him for you, Madam, if that's alright, that is." The man spoke smoothly, his face kind as he favored the witch with a smile.

"Oh! Of course, Mister Malfoy, I mean, if it isn't too much trouble for you, I suppose it could be arranged."

"Please do then, I'll move Mister Potter into his room in the mean time." Abraxas said as he leaned down and pulled Harry up into his arms securely, "You'll show me where it is, right Tom?" he asked, turning towards the youngest male.

Tom could only nod as he led Abraxas out of the room, and away from the annoying mediwizard, without another word. For all of his faults, Abraxas sure was useful sometimes. Now, only if he'd come to the realization that he'd have Harry under the circumstances that Tom was dead and buried. The boy continued that thought thunderously to himself as jealously simmered through his body.

He was almost too angry at the man to actually take him to Harry's room. The man didn't deserve to be in that room! He'd only been in there once before, and if Tom had it his way, the man would never enter the room again once he'd put Harry on the bed. He looked over his shoulder and saw Harry lying limply in the man's arms. He squashed his jealously and dislike for the man as he opened Harry's door fully and led the man in. He pulled back the blanket on 'Harry's' side of the bed and moved out of the way so Abraxas could set him down. They only spent a few moments in awkward silence before the mediwizard came bustling in with her wand out and her poise frantic.

Smugness overcame him as Malfoy was pushed out of the room for a few moments, and Tom sat on the opposite bedside as the mediwizard began waving her wand over Harry's form in practiced movements. Tom vaguely recognized a few spells that would help Harry sleep through the night before the witch began rummaging around in her bag for a few vials. She pulled out a nutrient potion, and a few bottles of draught that Tom was sure were to keep Harry going back to sleep.

He ended up under the blankets curled up at Harry's side as the mediwizard wrote out instructions and continued to monitor Harry's temperature and other functions as she held a vial to his lips and massaged it down his throat. Vaguely, Tom heard a door opening and closing; two voices talking, a man sighing, but he was tired. It was warm and Harry was okay. He ignored the fact he had classes and allowed himself to fall asleep with Harry's robes clenched in his fist.

There was the methodical turning of pages, like someone was reading a book. There was a fire crackling and accompanying it was a soft snore that was easily spotted as someone deep asleep.

Tom blinked a few times hazily, enjoying the warmth he felt curled up in bed next to Harry. Used to the man's snoring, he realized that wasn't what had woken him up. He sat up slowly, a hand automatically moving to smoothe his hair down. He watched Abraxas as the man sat on Harry's other side in a chair, his legs crossed as a book rested on his knee.

"What time is it?"

"About seven in the evening,"

"Has he woken up yet?"

"No, the madam was very direct when saying he wouldn't wake up earlier than tomorrow afternoon, you were asleep by then however, so you wouldn't have heard.

Tom almost scowled at the man, before he realized a reaction would only feed his ego. He shrugged and lay back down next to Harry, snuggling against the man's side. "So you'll be here until then,"

"Yes, unless you'd rather have Harry moved to the infirmary. I know you aren't very fond of me."

"I'm not a very social person, it's alright. I'd rather not be in the infirmary all night, and I know he hates waking up there."

"Yes, social necessities seem to run more strongly in purebloods than anyone else. You're not really Harry's though are you, so you must have been much nastier from the root. Harry has a soft hand; he must have molded you according to his little morals. He's an overly kind person."

"Good enough reason for you to stay away from him," Tom spat, feeling the blood remark, "His being around you might turn his soul black."

"Oh, come now, Tom. I'm not quite that bad. I'm doing this for you, aren't I?"

"No, you're doing this for yourself. You're doing this because you know the kindness it would usually induce would coax Harry towards you."

"He really does hang on to the smallest kindnesses."

"He likes to think there's still good in the world. He looks for the best in people."

"Like he did for you," Abraxas shot back scathingly.

"Precisely, be reminded, though, I came first. You're replaceable." Tom murmured sweetly before burying his face against Harry's shoulder and forcing himself back to sleep and away from the heated conversation between him and Malfoy.

The second time Tom woke up, the room was dark and silent. He reached out next to him, already telling from the cool sheets around him that Harry wouldn't be in bed still. He wasn't surprised when his hand reached emptiness, and he sat up in bed to gain his bearings. He went through his morning absolutions, especially a shower and a change of clothes, before making his way to the kitchen where he could hear the tinkle of glass and silverware.

As he walked into the kitchen, he was met with the scene of Abraxas pouring Harry more orange juice as the two ate and conversed quietly. Harry went to stand and greet him, hug him even; but the smile was strained and Tom motioned him to cease as he made himself a plate and sat down, feeling like the third wheel.

He knew he had precedence over Abraxas, and he knew Harry cared for him more than anyone else, but Tom was mad jealous, and he would admit it to himself at the very least.

"I'm happy you're feeling better, Harry," it was honest and as Tom looked sideways at the man so Abraxas couldn't see his expression, his heart warmed at Harry's soft smile.

"I'm sorry to have worried you. Thank you for taking care of me and getting help."

"You would have done the same for me."

"Abraxas, thank you as well for staying here and watching us. I hate waking up in the infirmary. It was nice to wake up in my bed. When I went down, I couldn't help but groan to myself, wondering how long I'd be stuck in the infirmary. It's one of my most loathed places to be."

"It wasn't a bother at all, Harry, I was very happy to help."

Tom continued to eat his breakfast in silence, noticing the awkwardness that seemed to surround them as they ate. It was odd having a third person at the table. Meals, especially morning and evening, were something that Harry and he shared intimately. Neither one of them was required for anything besides lunch. Even when they'd been fighting, or at odds ends with each other, they'd always had their meals together. It didn't matter how strained the silences were or how annoyed with one the other was. It was like a sacred ritual, and having Abraxas sitting in on a breakfast with them made Tom feel violated.

He didn't understand how he could go from being so frustrated with Harry to feeling so put out with something he'd taken for granted before it'd been interrupted. He focused his attention on the two adults slyly, continuing his breakfast as he heard the two of them whisper back and forth; his attention on them unbeknownst to either.

"Are you going back to classes today?"

"No, I think I'm going to take a week off. I spoke to the Headmaster about it this morning."

"Will you stay at Hogwarts for the duration, or will you go home for a break?"

"I think I'm going to go home,"

"You shouldn't go unaccompanied,"

"Don't be silly," Harry laughed softly, "I'm taking Tom with me. He's so advanced in his classes, Headmaster Dippet made the exception. Besides, he knows how badly I've been over-exerting myself lately, and he's more than happy to give me the time off to recuperate."

"Will you be alright getting their on your own?" Abraxas asked. Tom could almost swear he heard concern leaking through the man's voice, but he knew better than that. Malfoy was far colder than he let on. Harry wasn't the type of person that would recognize that though.

"Professor Dumbledore offered to take us when I spoke to Headmaster Dippet this morning, I didn't see reason to decline."

"When do you leave?"

"Whenever we're ready I suppose, before noon I'm hoping. I'm already tired and I've just woken up. I don't think I could wait too late, I'd have to postpone it until tomorrow."

"No, you should leave earlier, you deserve a break. You have been running yourself ragged lately. Why, I don't know."

Tom pushed his plate away and stood up from the table, leaving the two wizards alone as he went and gathered his things. He packed himself a bag of clothes. Clothes to play in and clothes to go out in, before going to Harry's room and doing the same; he left any wizarding clothing, though. He only took muggle clothes. He left his school books and homework, but remembered to take his pillow and Harry's favorite pair of pants.

Then he hid out in Harry's room, relaxed and content as he lay in the older man's bed. He looked back on sitting between Abraxas and Harry at the table, eating breakfast. He was startled to realize that he was being jealous over nothing. As much time as Harry spent with Abraxas. It wasn't the blonde man that Harry was worrying himself sick over. He was worrying himself sick over Tom, and even though Tom was upset Harry had went down like that, and it had been scary, it proved something to Tom.

Even though Abraxas was spiteful to him and smug about the time he spent with Harry. He wasn't Harry's priority, and he was under no circumstances Harry's number one.

That was reserved for Tom, and the younger man wouldn't let anyone take that from him or from Harry, no matter how much they quarreled and no matter how much Tom manipulated others.

He wanted other people in his life besides Harry though. He wanted…friends. There was a difference between Harry and friends. Harry was his, friends were just there.

"Tom?"

The younger man looked up, pulling himself from his thoughts as he gave Harry a soft look, "Yes?"

"What are you doing in here by yourself with the light off; did you eat enough at breakfast?"

"Of course. You and Abraxas were talking, though, I didn't want to intrude. I thought you liked spending time with him?"

"I like spending time with you too, Tom. Much more so than I do with Abraxas though, I care for you much more than I do him. He just passes the time when you're with your friends. With you growing up and meeting new people, I'm just kind felt of left behind."

"No, you're not," Tom argued.

"Shush, Tom, it's true and you know it. It's why we've been so at odds ends lately. You're making new friends, learning new things, having new experiences. You're going to change. I've already been through that change. So, lately I've been hanging around someone who's also gone through that change. I'll be here when you're done exploring though, okay. Just become someone you're proud of, don't become someone everyone else is proud of. At the end of the day, you won't know if you did it for yourself or the people around you. You'll hate it."

"What if I want to be someone you're proud of?"

"Then just be yourself, kiddo." Harry answered back with a smile, his hand reaching out to ruffle the younger boy's hair.

"You're not going to let him escort us home, are you?" Tom asked, waiting a few beats before he continued, "He wouldn't leave quickly if you did. He likes you, as in likes you likes you."

Harry laughed merrily turning to look at Tom and ruffling his hair fondly, "I thought you were above speaking like a silly tween, Tom."

The boy flushed an angry, embarrassed red as he glared at Harry, "He wants in your pants, he wants to fuck you. Nothing more and nothing less. I'm not letting him near you!" Tom gritted out.

Harry looked at the boy, almost scandalized in his slight shock, "You've really got to stop picking up on your associates' mannerism. That's a very vulgar word. It's not proper to say, it's ugly."

"You wanted direct, not quaint, Harry,"

"True,"

"You are feeling better, right?" Tom asked quietly and as leaned against Harry's side.

"How many times do I have to reassure you?"

"Until I believe you,"

"When will that be?"

"When you're not hiding it or lying."

"Touché,"

"I hadn't meant to hide anything from anyone; I'm just used to being on my own, of taking care of myself. I look at it as if I'm a burden to the people I'm around if I somehow weigh them down, by being sick or tired or hurt. I'm not quite used to having other people look out for my well being; or very much caring as long as it doesn't interfere with certain things, like work."

"Well, if I have to become used to you looking after me and acquiesce to your intruding tendencies, than I demand you do the same. I don't want that to happen again, I don't want you to go down like that again. It was heart-stopping. Not to mention I had to deal with Abraxas for such a long period of time. You owe me for that. I know you hate waking up in the infirmary, but I hate Abraxas more."

"I don't understand your hate for him. He's very much a gentleman. Nothing like others I've met like him."

"It's a facade; it's what he shows on the outside until he gets what he wants. People like him, especially Slytherins like him, are manipulative. They're raised to play people like a master. He'll feed you sweet lies until you believe them, and then rip them away as he gets what he wants." Tom spat, his mood dark and his face scrunched up in anger.

"How do you know such a thing, Tom?"

"Because I'm the same way." Tom stated. His voice was so filled with conviction and self-malice that Harry stayed quiet for a long while.

"You're like that with your friends." Harry stated, it seemed like it was a question and answer, all in one.

"Yes, they do things for me. They're like trainable dogs. You tell them to jump, and if you have the public image, they ask how high."

"That's a very cruel thing to do."

"They're better off under my influence than anyone else's. I may not be able to sway their outlook on muggles and muggleborns or halfbloods, but at least there aren't any public attacks on the students that fall under those categories. It's very easy to tell them that violence like that would be frowned upon, especially when purebloods are the stronger species, and it should be our...responsibility to help those that don't know any better."

"You didn't believe that at the beginning of the summer."

"No, I didn't understand then either. I'm one of them though. I'm a halfblood. No matter how much I wish I wasn't, I am. They hated me for it in the beginning, absolutely treated me cruelly because my blood wasn't pure. No one deserves to be out casted like that because of their blood. Something they had no part in. I won't be a part of such a lowly thing as hate towards my own species and race; nothing like those disgusting muggles who unleashed genocide on an entire ethnicity. We're all just people."

"You're wise beyond your years, Tom."

"You've said so before."

"Yeah, I have, haven't I? I think I'm getting to something."

* * *

They were home by one.

Tom marveled on how quickly the aggravation disappeared between them in a different atmosphere. He put their things in their perspective rooms before sitting down on the couch to read with Harry. They fell into an old habit of sitting closely so they could read the same book. Tom usually had to wait a few seconds longer to turn the page since Harry wasn't as quick a reader as he was though. Page by page, he realized he was starting to read broken sentences continually, and turning to the next page without regard to Harry's place. He was about to say something, but as he turned to look at the older man, he realized that Harry had been asleep for a while.

He closed the book, pulled the blanket down over them from the back of the couch, and decided a nap wouldn't hurt them. He laid Harry down next to him and fell asleep against the green-eyed boy.

It was much later, and far much darker when Harry woke up. He was warm and content. A little sore from being tired, but content; he continued to lie next to Tom, evaluating his own behavior as of later. He'd been flippant, almost uncaring with the younger man. He allowed him to do as he pleased with no consequence and they continued to drift further and further away. He'd been so enraptured with the idea that Abaraxas represented: a friend, a confident, a normality he hadn't had since Ron and Hermione. That he'd completely and utterly been unintentionally irresponsible.

He was parallel with Tom. Even into his late teens, he'd still been awkward around the Weasleys, around Remus, around everyone who had accepted him at once and whole heartedly. The ones he'd always had an underlying fear would turn out like the Dursleys.

Time didn't heal all wounds, it only made them numb. The more Harry began to drift away, the more feeling Tom's wounds invoked.

Harry didn't want to be like the Dursleys. He didn't want to be Tom's version of the Dursleys.


	13. Chapter 13

There are two, wait, three things to thank for this. The story **The Black Bunny**, sleeping pills that only make me loopy, and the utter ... shame I feel at the pathetic amount of Harry Potter/Tom Riddle-Lord Voldemort fanfictions that are out there. My favorite fandom is quickly dying and taking part of my heart with it.

* * *

The next was like nothing happened. Tom realized he'd never had that before. He'd never had a relationship, of any kind, where things could snap back to normal at a moment's notice.

To Harry, it was a nice reprieve. Almost like when he wouldn't see Hermione and Ron for a few weeks or months only to see them again, and for everything to continue on like time had never separated them for such a length.

They could be away from each other for hours, an aggravation building between them as they vented against each other in their heads. As soon as they saw the other, however, the annoyance seemed to extinguish immediately.

It seemed the more time they spend alone, or alone together, Harry realized that they were more introverts, rather than socializing people. It was fun, and rejuvenating to have a few close friends, but having to entertain multiple, faraway people was more draining on their patience than either realized.

Easily, they took it out on each other with their jealousy and aggravation. It was easier to do it behind closed doors and blame the school work and students; Instead of blowing up on students or co-workers.

It was really easy for Tom to over exaggerate the faults Harry had when dealing with him, especially when the man was away for long periods of time, asleep or at the store, but when Harry walked in and smiled at him. It was hard to hold on to the malicious thoughts. He worked himself up into such a tantrum, and whenever those feelings did diminished, he always felt shame for having those feelings towards Harry; especially when Harry never hurt him intentionally. Even though he was unconsciously on his guard now, waiting for another rough spot like the one they were just leaving to occur

That was the story of his so far short life. People were either cruel to him, or showed him a short kindness and left. It'd been years now though; years of kindness and kinship. Why was a year at Hogwarts any different than a year at home? Tom realized that was the question to ask. Even with all the tension and new people they were both meeting, nothing should have changed so drastically. Why was it so hard for them to stay the way they'd been out in the Hogwarts atmosphere? Out in public? The question brought back small snippets of things he'd said to Abraxas, mostly the part of 'Tom being first, and Abraxas being replaceable.'

In that instant he realized that Harry and he couldn't get along well in public because their relationship wasn't normal. Harry wasn't just his guardian, or he wouldn't be if Tom had anything to say about it at any rate. Abraxas was an unwanted distraction that would never have Harry's heart in hand like Tom did. And none of the people Tom associated with would receive anything but words, no matter their intentions. He was possessive of Harry and the man allowed it. They both had the same temper though, and they clashed furiously when there was a situation. Neither wanted to admit they were wrong, especially when they hadn't known they were.

They were spending their last day of Harry's off time in Diagon Ally, walking lazily and without purpose past and through the shops. They'd both worn wizarding clothing into the alley, randomly picking things up here and there. Harry would shrink them down to size so they could carry their newly acquired trinkets in their robes. They'd been perusing a Dark Arts store just off of Knockturn alley when someone with blond hair approached them. At first Tom thought it was Malfoy, and a sneer lit his face up. When he realized it wasn't, he became guarded, and stuck close to Harry's side.

"Shaggy dark brown hair, emerald green eyes and a short ropey stature, and, of course, accompanied by a child who sports similar traits. You wouldn't happen to be the one who bested a burly man for touching your son, would you?"

Harry turned to look at the man once he'd finished speaking, his gaze went from the floor up and the higher he got, the more his facial expressions diminished. "Tom, love, why don't you go get that book on ward breaking and spell creation you were interested in earlier."

Tom knew he was being pushed away from the conversations but went without any real fight, realizing he'd rather ask Harry later, or listen in, rather than create a scene with someone Harry was obviously wary of.

"You must be the man I'm going to regret crossing." Harry spoke lightly, almost as if he didn't believe the words for himself.

"Perhaps, I wanted to know your side of the story."

"He put his hands on my charge. You should teach your followers to be less holier than thou when in public. It'd be terrible if all of your plans were ruined because of an egotistical distraction."

The man's gaze darkened and Harry turned away, partially intent on making sure Tom was alright while keeping himself covered.

"And what would you know?"

"Probably a lot more than you'd like, _Lord_." Harry whispered, "I'll tell Dumbledore you said Hullo, but for now I must be going. Tell your people to stay out of my way and they'll have no reason to crawl back shamefully." Harry smiled as if he hadn't just threatened the man and truly began walking away.

"What's your game, green-eyes?" Grindelwald asked, almost demanded as he took a few steps after him. "What do you want?"

"Nothing, nothing at all, I'm just a guy named Harry," He finished.

* * *

"What'd he want?"

"He just wanted to know why I assaulted that man in Diagon Alley when he attacked you."

"Why'd you tell me to walk away then?"

"Because I didn't trust him not to hurt you, I don't trust anyone not to hurt you."

"Not even yourself?"

"I wouldn't hurt you on purpose, you know that. But things like the past couple of months can happen. I don't intentionally mean to hurt you, physically or mentally, but it happens."

"You don't really like Abraxas, do you?"

"Not at this moment, he's just a friend, Tom, I've told you that."

"I think you need to tell him that."

"I think you're more like him than you realize."

"That was so not a compliment."

"It wasn't meant to be, now just drop it. Nothing will come from us debating this but agitation. We're just going to go back to Hogwarts tonight, and everything will go back to normal."

"We're not normal, Harry."

"No, but we can pretend to be."

* * *

Obviously there was a reason Gellert Grindelwald was a Dark Lord in this time, and it didn't take long for Harry to realize how resourceful the man was when he got an owl barely two weeks after meeting the man in the dark arts shop outside of Knockturn Alley.

It was a simple piece a parchment with his name on it. The words inside seemed both insincere and taunting, and the signing made him laugh in exasperation.

_It was nice to meet you, Harry._

_You know who._

Maybe it was a mind game thing, or maybe it was just a dark lord trait to name themselves known without actually knowing.

As he set the parchment a flame and dropped it in the sink, he hoped it was the last note he would receive from the man. The last type of contact. Knowing how fate liked to deal him, though, he should have known better than to think such a thought. He cleared his mind of the interaction and note before starting on a snack before bed. Tom was hanging out with Arcturus in the Slytherin dorms for a little while, wiggling his way back into his little niche with his associates.

Harry didn't mind, especially not after their bonding at home. Things seemed to be settling back into their comfortable rhythm of their personalized version of normalcy. Tom went to classes and hung out with his friends, Harry taught classes to retire early, before or after dinner in the Great Hall, to grade papers or relax. He tried not to think too much, tried not to stress over how he should or shouldn't interact with Tom, how he should or shouldn't raise him. Whether having Abraxas around was as bad of an idea as Tom made it out to be. He needed grown up time, not the type that Tom was convinced Abraxas was after, but just a monotone situation with adult company. It didn't help that Abraxas could keep conversations going for hours. It was nice to hear someone else talk for once. Or perhaps, just the normalcy, once again, of what he had with Ron and Hermione, just listening to them talk as he stayed quiet in the back ground.

It was also a great way to learn this time's mechanisms. It was a lot easier to adjust to this time's wizarding world when he had Abraxas whispering in his ear. Besides it wasn't Tom's business on who he liked and who he didn't.

It still marveled him, however, how easy it was to differentiate between Tom and Voldemort. There'd been a few times where he could overlay the two personalities, but it'd been almost too easy to accept Tom for Tom in their past four years.

The day the crazy idea had popped into his head to come back; to travel through time, to make a difference. To change someone from what he knew they'd be! He hadn't thought adjusting to 'Tom' would be as easy as it had been. All those years of comparing himself to Voldemort, assimilating their likes and differences had paid off. After all of that insecurity of thinking he'd be a monster like the man he was destined to kill. It gave him the ability to look at the situation from a different point of view. The point of view that painted Tom exactly as Harry had once been. Discarded from a world he was born from, and forgotten until his Hogwarts letter.

If Harry would have had the knowledge of his parents' death, the true knowledge, when he was Tom's age, instead of the tale his aunt and uncle had spun, how would he have turned out? Revenge driven and mad? Like Voldemort? Probably, they were both just people, trying to find their niche in the world. Voldemort had created his through madness, need, want, desire for immortality. Harry's was born from his first encounter with Voldemort.

Perhaps that's what all children needed, a niche they were born for. Or at least one developed for them in such a way they wouldn't find motivation to go after something else. If Tom could forgive his mother's death and find a place in the wizarding world that didn't shun him for his blood, or play on his fears and insecurity, perhaps he wouldn't turn out quite as bad as he did the first time around.

As with all things time related, Harry couldn't know for sure, but he'd try his damnedest to make sure Tom wanted for nothing and wasn't hurt by anything or anyone.

Everyone else would just have to go along for the ride.

* * *

Instead of going home for Easter weekend, he, Tom, and Black went into Hogsmeade for the Saturday. They grabbed a table at The Three Broomsticks, having a meal. Harry sat idly while the boys chattered animatedly, sharing stories of different professors that he didn't care to listen into. When they decided to go scavenger the book store and Honey Dukes, Harry decided to stay behind and enjoy his butter beer until they returned. He was twenty minutes into his solitude when a man sidled into the booth across from him.

"Hello."

"Taken an interest in me, have you?" Harry asked without looking up. Even if he had, he knew the man wouldn't be wearing the same disguise as before, or rather, he was in disguise now.

"How'd you know it was me?" the man asked with a chuckle as he flagged down a staff member and ordered a tumbler of Ogden's finest.

Harry shrugged off the question nonchalantly, knowing the man was asking a question he'd probably just worked out the answer to.

"No tiny tyke around this time?"

"He's perusing the stores with Black. Thought I'd just relax here since it is supposed to be a holiday."

"Aren't you worried another confrontation may take place?"

"He can handle himself,"

"He didn't last time."

"He didn't have a wand last time."

"He's a little firstie, there's no way he could protect himself."

Harry just gave the man a look he'd adapted from Snape. He raised one eyebrow, almost in a betting fashion before taking a sip of his drink and lying back against his booth, finally staring the man in the eye. "Tom's not exactly normal."

"So you've said, I've been told he's an heir of a founder."

Harry tipped his head in a noncommittal way before adding, "He's particularly...zealous in his studies. He doesn't take failure as an option."

"A good quality to have."

"I suppose."

"You disagree?"

"Only when it's aimed at me," Harry said ruefully, a look of fondness eclipsing him.

The man across from him laughed, almost melodically. Such a soft sound to hear from someone he knew could be very gruesome. He was starting to draw parallels and differences between the two Dark Lords. How this one could be so different from the one he was used to.

In front of him was just a man, one who wanted power and had certainly started achieving it, but he knew he hadn't achieved it how Voldemort had. He could almost sense it. The man was Dark, but not as ... evil as Voldemort. Perhaps that's the only difference that was needed. He controlled dark magic, but he wasn't malevolent. He could have his cruel, unmoral tendencies, most probably; but he wasn't anything like Voldemort, on any level. He controlled his power, not the other way around. He was the socialite the man had aimed to be, but had lost sight of when he'd slowly started going mad. Gellert was what Tom could attain if he didn't split his soul. Mind games, word games, charm and finesse without the insanity to lose his place or patience.

This was the enticing power that had lured the Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Slytherins alike into the first war. As the thought filtered across his mind, Harry realized he was slightly attracted to that type of power when there wasn't violence involved. The power to do anything. The power to stop anything. It was a weird paradox of being in danger and safe all at once. Probably something Tom related him to.

He took another sip of his butter beer.

"We'll have to do this again soon sometime," The man said as he stood from the booth, that charming smile that he could imagine on Tom's lips in a few years aimed in his directions.

"Maybe," Harry replied with a shrug, giving a noncommittal smile back. He felt the cool air as the door to the pub was opened, already guessing it was the boys by Gellert's voluntary dismissal.

He sincerely hoped he didn't see the man again. Well anytime soon, at any rate.

He was starting to realize, no matter where he went he could never be left alone. He couldn't believe he was having any type of correspondence with Gellert Grindelwald. Not because he was the Dark Lord of this time, but because he really didn't think he had anything to offer the man, and men like him were always after something.

He knew he was good at warding and of course at Defense, but anyone could be those things. He was just Harry. A Man, like anyone else, living life day by day and enjoying it while it lasted.

He was a professor at Hogwarts with a quiet life and very few connections, and the ones he had weren't that great anyway.

* * *

"It doesn't seem like Tom likes me very much," Abraxas whispered over dinner one night in the Great Hall, present at the school for the beginning of the fall term, Tom's third year.

"He's always been possessive of me, so don't think it's just you. I remember one day we went to buy him a snake, and he glared at the woman who showed us around. If looks could kill, she probably would have been a few feet under. He was younger then too, obviously, so I was carrying him around. He had a death grip on me, and I think at least once he made a face at her."

"Slightly childish compared to how he is now,"

"He just wants to fit in, like anyone else."

"He's a halfblood. It's going to be very hard for him to fit in."

"It's people like you who make it hard for him to fit in. Why does blood matter so much here?" Harry demanded, slightly angered.

"You know I don't mean it that way, it's just the fact of the matter, everyone teaches their pureblood child to think like that. Blood is important, it keeps the magic pure."

"No, it makes the blood pure. If it kept the magic pure, there wouldn't be squibs. Besides, he looks like he's getting along just fine with Arcturus Black. Just look at them, they get along brilliantly."

"That doesn't bother you? You're not so possessive of him?"

"I own no one but myself," Harry said quietly, solemnly.

Abraxas took that as his cue to either end their conversation or change topics. He took to quieting down.

As he looked over toward the Slytherin table, he realized Harry was very correct in his assumption that the two boys were getting along famously.

* * *

Tom smirked as Arcturus ignored one of the other Slytherins in favor of pinning his attention on Tom. The two shared a glance, almost identical looks of superiority crossing their faces as they began to talk. Arcturus reached out as he was talking to Tom, inviting him to spend the evening in the Slytherin common room with him and some friends, and flipped the boy's collar back into place. He smiled as he did so, "Much more handsome when you're cloths aren't in disarray. "You'll come then, won't you?"

"Yes, of course, why wouldn't I?"

"Do you need to ask Professor Potter?"

"Why would I?"

"Just asking," Arcturus placated with a smirk. He wrapped his arm around Tom's shoulder and pulled him closer, "What do you want to do when we get to the common room?"

Tom lifted an eye brow as he answered, his expression amused as he answered, "I can think of a few things."

"You'll tell me, won't you?"

"When we get there, maybe." Tom said with a laugh, his hand on Arcturus' shoulder as he stood, before walking with the boy to the Slytherin dorms.

* * *

There were still the evenings when they sat around their chambers on the couches, lounging lazily and enjoying the silence; enjoying the feel of each other's magic dancing across their skin. An unconscious luxury they took part in, so used to one another's presence that their bodies, minds, magic were now able to identify it.

It was that silence that spoke for hours, the one that was never awkward, never chilled; one that had you thinking more when you left than when you were.

Tom skipped that night, though, to hang out with Arcturus, and Harry shrugged it off. He understood what it was like to have a new friend. Fascinated with endlessly new possibilities until they were all discovered and then they were like family.

He admitted slightly to himself that he was a little stir crazy, not knowing what to do with himself. He tried to relax on the couch, like they usually did, but ended up being too restless. He tried to do the minuscule grading he had left to do, instead of procrastinating until the next morning. He finally gave up on the notion of sitting still and went for a fly, enjoying the darkness and solitude as he raced his broom high enough in the sky that he knew no one could see him without aide.

By the time he got back, Tom was asleep on the couch, but that was okay, because as soon as Harry had entered their chambers, his exertion seemed to take hold of him and the urge to do and be became nonexistent. He moved quietly and carefully, picking Tom up off the couch and tucking him into bed. He brushed the boy's hair out of his face and bent down to kiss his forehead, becoming dazed for a moment as he leaned over the boy's face. He shook himself out of it though and pressed his lips against Tom's forehead before taking a short, hot shower and hitting the sheets himself, his eyes closed as soon as he became comfortable.

* * *

Harry spent his day as he normally did, teaching classes, grading papers and just going about his normal business. The first thing to tip him off that today was going to be different was a morning owl from Abraxas, asking him to dinner. He thought it odd considering the man had an open invitation to Hogwarts, but decided he'd pen back his answer once he found out Tom's plans for the evening.

He could see the two of them with their heads together in the back of his classroom talking back and forth, he didn't want to play favorites, but it didn't seem like they were disturbing anyone else so he let them continue their conversation.

"What's going on with Professor Potter and Mister Malfoy?" Arcturus asked Tom, his hand landing on the boy's thigh as he gave a wicked grin before squeezing Tom's leg as he moved his fingers up.

"Harry says they're not dating, and they're just friends, why?"

"That's not what I've been hearing from the Slytherins," Arcturus reproached.

"Well, none of its true, Harry's too much of a Gryffindor to lie, and I can tell when he does." Tom said confidently. "Am I still invited by tonight?" he finished.

Arcturus gave him a dazzling smile as he caresses Tom lightly before pulling away when the other teen's face bled red, "Of course you are, who am I to deny the great Tom Riddle?"

"No one," Tom said smugly as he put his hand on Arcturus' leg, letting his magic flow freely and watching as the other boy's pupils dilated and his breathing hitched. "No one at all, try not to think otherwise. I always get what I want." His smugness was radiating off of him, and when the bell rang to dismiss class Harry gave him a questioning look before tilting his head back. Message sent, message received. He discretely trailed his hand against the back of Arcturus' neck and through his hair before walking over to Harry as the students filtered out.

"How's your day been, Tom?" Harry asked kindly, the warmness he reserved solely for Tom coming to life once the students had vacated the room.

"Pretty good, Arcturus asked me to come up to the Slytherin Common room after classes. Anything exciting happen in any of your classes?"

Harry laughed, wishing something would, but should his head, "No, never, I don't think that's possible. Have fun with your friends though. Abraxas invited me out, so I'm thinking I would go."

"What? Like a date?" Tom inquired, his chest tightening possessively at the thought.

"I don't think so," Harry answer, his voice unsure and clueless, "I thought he was married."

"Like it matters to him,"

"It should, and he said it was just a change of scenery from the noise."

"I'm sure," Tom replied dryly, "Well, I'm off, or I'm going to be late for classes. I'll see you later."

"When will you be back?"

"Around eleven,"

"Alright," Harry replied, pulling Tom towards him and into a hug before the boy could take off in a jealous mood. "Have fun,"

"Thanks,"

He sent his acceptance to Abraxas and shortly after his next class was over, he received a reply that entailed that Abraxas would meet him outside the Great Hall after mostly everyone was settled down for dinner so they could leave quietly.

* * *

By the time classes were over, Harry was fretting over what to wear and whether or not he was going to make a fool of himself. Once the thought crossed his mind he ran his hands through his hair, frustrated.

"This isn't a date, Harry. Its dinner between two friends, you wouldn't be fretting like this with Hermione or Ron." The thought gave him a slight ache, but he pushed it away, not ready for that to come up now. "Abraxas isn't them though, he's a high class pureblood who probably won't say he hates what I'm wearing but will surely be thinking it. I just need to dress to fit in, nothing more or less. I don't want or need his approval," even though I look up to him.

The silent though made Harry scrunch his face up in annoyance before raiding his closet for something to wear, when he finally settled on something that was between casual and formal, he threw his hair into a pony tail instead of leaving it down to tickle his neck.

He looked at the time and realized he had a while before he needed to meet Abraxas, so he sat down anxiously and tried to grade some papers he had left over from the night before. He looked at the clock multiple times in the same minutes, trying not to curse time for being so slow when he wanted it to hurry up and go already.

He tried to calm his nerves at the time went by, and when that didn't work he decided to leave his rooms early, and just wander until it was time to meet Abraxas, so he did. He still showed up early, a little surprised to Abraxas standing off to the side.

"Ready to go so quickly?" The blonde asked, seemingly pleased.

"Yep, the highlight of my day. Where are going?"

"Just to dinner, and it's a surprise,"

"Alright then," he said with a soft smile.

The man linked their arms together playfully and the two began their walk towards the edge of the words, Harry's smile one of amused pleasure as he went along with the Slytherin's antics. The sun was setting early with the colder months and by the time they made it to the edge of the wards, they could see their breath and the light was eerie, between light and darkness.

They passed the wards and once they did, Abraxas pulled him closer and sidelong apparated him like it was as easy as breathing to him. The amount of power that rain through his body had Harry's breathing hitching slightly before they hit the ground.

He almost tripped over his own feet when Abraxas kept on walking in stride like they hadn't just apparated midstep, and Harry marveled at the man slightly. He hadn't realized the amount of power Abraxas held concerning magic, but he didn't want to dwell on it either. Ever since he'd came back, his magic had been more sensitive to outside magics, he'd been more sensitive, and it didn't seem to be doing any favors for him.

He followed Abraxas into a high end restaurant, marveling at the atmosphere as a well dressed waiter led them to a table.

"The usual wine tonight, Lord Malfoy?" The man asked, offering them both menus before turning to the blonde.

"Yes, of course, Adrian, iced water as well." He said before dismissing the man with a wave of his hand.

"Come here often," Harry offered teasingly.

"Yes, it's a frequent place for Ministry workers to meet up for lunch. How was your day though?"

"Pretty well, I think I'm getting jealous, or at least stir crazy. I'm so used to taking care of Tom; I don't know what to do with myself when he's not around. Rather pathetic actually, he's the child. He should be the one lost when I'm not around, not me." Harry finished, pulling his elbows off the table as the waiter came by to fill up their wine glasses.

"Well, he's been your sole focus for how long? Sometimes it's a little hard not to have something take up your time like it used too. That's quite alright though, because I'm here as a distraction, can't have you being listless all the time."

"Thank you," Harry said quietly, a smile playing on his lips, "for being a distraction."

"Anytime, Harry, anytime," Abraxas said with a smirk, raising his glass to the other man. He sipped his while Harry almost drank half of his in one go. Abraxas' smirk deepened behind his glass as he let another sip of wine ravish his taste bugs.

* * *

Tom stood frozen around the corner, his heart palpitating in his chest as he stared off into space, trying to forget what he'd just saw before running to hide. Harry, HIS HARRY, was kissing someone just beyond the wall he was hiding against. He felt his stomach twist as he heard the older man.

"Brax..." it was quiet moan, one Tom heard though as his eyes began to burn, "Brax...please..." Harry whined. Tom heard shifting before Harry let out an embarrassing sound that Tom knew he would never admit to. He peeked along the wall to see what Malfoy was doing to Harry and felt his entire body flush. He almost growled before realizing it would alert the older men that he was there.

Abraxas Malfoy had Harry pinned against a stone wall in a corridor not many people used since it was a roundabout way to get to the dungeons.

Abraxas had one leg shoved between both of Harry's, propping him against the wall slightly with his full body weight, Harry's feet barely touching the ground as he pushed himself against the blonde's leg. His hands were clenched in Malfoy's robes and he had his face buried in the older man's neck, sucking the skin there and leaving open-mouthed kisses as he moaned with almost every breath.

"W-we'll get caught," Harry murmured.

"Then we should go somewhere wh-"

Tom didn't wait for the man to finish his sentence; he turned and took off running toward Harry's quarters. That man was not going to get anything from his Harry; he'd make sure of it.

What infuriated him most though was that the students had been right. That he'd learned of Harry's 'relationship' with Abraxas from everyone but Harry. That hurt. A lot more than Tom was going to admit to anyone, even himself. This was the first secret that Harry had ever kept from him. Any other event that happened in Harry's life the man shared as openly as if Tom was a diary he was writing in. Harry had treated him as an adult that was capable of handling someone else's problems or worries. Well, until now.

His face was flushed with anger as he slammed the portrait behind him, marching off to Harry's room where he threw himself on the bed, pulling his tie until it hung loosely around his neck.

That man was not getting anywhere near the inside of Harry's pants!

If Harry thought he was going to handle the situation like a child, then that's exactly what he'd do. Afterwards though, he would show Harry he was not a child. That he was a lot smarter and a lot more in tune with certain things.

He shucked his shirt off and settled under Harry's comforter, mussing his hair up wildly before he pushed his legs around to ruffle the bedding.

He lay back on the bed and got into a position that he could pretend he was asleep in.

He ended up lying there for so long, waiting for the two, that he was actually falling asleep. He felt someone's hand on his arm and hummed slightly, burying his face into the heat that was on the bed with him.

Maybe it was Harry? Maybe it was a dream, if it was a dream it wouldn't matter. He wasn't really even thinking along those lines though as his mouth opened in a slight pant. Just the thought of Harry, how he'd seen him before with that Malfoy. He buried his face into Harry's pillow, moaning the older man's name slightly.

His pillow stiffened though, and it took him a moment to realize two things. His pillow was warm and it was breathing. He tightened his hand where it clenched the comforters and buried his face into the bed, away from Harry.

Malfoy...that's right, that's why Harry was here. It wasn't because Tom was lying in his bed; it wasn't because he cared. It was because of Abraxas.

Tom felt hands on him, warm, soft, - loving - hands that were trying to turn his head to face the owner. He snapped his head away from them though and turned away from Harry. Angry and jealous and hateful and AH!

"Tom...Tom are you crying?" Harry asked, his voice becoming a little hysterical at the end.

Tom shook his head, absolutely denying it, even though his eyes burned, and even though it was probably a lie; he wouldn't let Harry know that.

"Leave the kid be, Harry, we have something to do..."

Tom heard the voice and wanted to punch the man in his pretty little face. Forget magic, he wanted it to be personal.

"No, Abraxas, there's obviously something wrong. He needs me."

"It's important though."

Tom could tell that Harry had lifted his head to look at the man by the subtle shift of the bed.

"No, it's not. Not to me anyway. The only thing important to me is curled up on my bed. He will always be the most important thing to me. You brought yourself here, now I suggest you take yourself out." Harry said

He spoke coldly, his words precise and his tone held no room for arguments.

"You don't know who you've turned down." Abraxas hissed before he left, the portrait slamming a few seconds later in his anger.

Harry tried to get Tom too looked at him again, his soft hands running through the messy hair as the younger man continued to bury his face in the bed. "Well, you don't have a fever..." Tom ignored him though, pulling the blanket over his shoulders and partially over his head. "What's this really about, Tom? Is it Abraxas?"

Tom nodded but stayed quiet. He heard Harry make a sound of acknowledgement before the man lay out on the bed, curling up around his back and burying his face in Tom's hair.

"You're mad, then, that everyone knew but you? Well, that's a lie, I really didn't know either. Supposedly, he's been hitting on me for months now. Today's the first day I noticed it though. Did you see us, Tom?" Again, the younger boy nodded and Harry hugged Tom to him. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to hurt you like that. I didn't mean to hurt you at all. If you don't want Abraxas around, then we'll never see him again."

Tom smirked to himself as Harry held him. He took a slow, relaxed breath before he shifted towards Harry. The older man allowed the movement quizzically, Tom usually wasn't this affectionate. He gasped though when Tom pushed him by the shoulder to lie on his back. The boy straddled him, possessing his mouth ruthlessly as Tom held his hands down.

Harry was too shocked to stop the younger man, his brain just halted as he closed his eyes and began kissing back. This was Tom, a soon to be fourteen year old; that he was responsible for! A fourteen year old, that knew how to kiss. Harry whimpered slightly as Tom ground his arse against his sensitive groin, his body relighting the fire that Abraxas had started earlier.

Harry followed the lips setting his body on fire as they began to pull away, his upper body slowly lifting off the bed. He felt Tom move forward again and his body tensed in anticipation. Tom wasn't aiming for his lips though, "I don't want anyone around," He murmured fiercely into Harry's ear, pushing down once, so hard that Harry almost bucked off the bed.

By the time the older man had gained his bearings, Tom was gone. Harry's little problem wasn't.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: In this, Mudblood is a slur on anyone who isn't a pureblood.

* * *

Harry sighed as he squeezed his fist tightly. He stared up at the ceiling for a long while, trying to will his problem away. When it didn't work after a half hour, he growled in frustration before getting up to get a shower. Even when the lukewarm water played against his skin, and he tried to gross himself out of the mood, it was to no avail. He turned the warm water off and stood beneath the cold rain of the faucet.

This wasn't right. He shouldn't like Tom like he did. He shouldn't be feeling any of these things from the boy, and the boy shouldn't be feeling them back, especially not when Tom was six years younger than him. Even then, it was just the youngness of the age. Perhaps, thirty-two and thirty-eight but not anyone underage when. It wasn't right; people would look at him as a monster.

* * *

It was about a week later that Tom finally got a chance to practice.

It wasn't exactly planned, because Black could definitely be a little unpredictable, but there was no way Tom was going to let the other boy be in charge. He pushed the other boy back, following him with his lips as he put the older boy in a more submissive position.

_How come Harry can't kiss Abraxas, but you can kiss Black_? The thought crossed Tom's mind but as he heard the noises Black was making, the control the older boy was losing, to HIM. He really didn't give the question mind, besides he wasn't going to fall in love with Arcturus, he wasn't such an emotional person, not like Harry. Besides, he'd claimed Harry as his; he'd never claimed Tom though.

There was also the fact that Arcturus had an influence he didn't have, and before long it wouldn't be Tom trailing behind the boy, it would be Arcturus trailing behind Tom.

Tom smirked before focusing his attention on the older boy in front of him. HE pulled his lips away from Arcturus' mouth to slowly slide them down the boy's neck, stopping when the older boy's breath hitched or his small mewls changed in volume. Every sound sent a thrill through Tom and he felt his skin heat up and his breathing go fast.

He laid his hands on the other male's hips, his grasp firm and sure as pushed his body against the other's. He grinned against Arcturus' collar bone as the older boy gave a hoarse cry at the contact and thrust hard. Tom felt his legs quake at the pressure. He clenched his eyes shut and took a deep breath to control himself once he had himself in line, he continued his mission of trying to drive the other boy to completion. He slid his hands from Arcturus' waist back to his ass, squeezing harshly as he pulled the older male towards him tightly, and grinded against Arcturus as he panted against his neck. Tilting his own to the side as he closed his eyes, enjoying the opened mouth kisses Arcturus was lavishing his neck with. His hands would tighten unconsciously every time the older boy stopped his open mouth kisses to suck on Tom's neck.

Tom didn't know how long they continued on before the other boy started gasping harshly, his hands tightening almost painfully against Tom as he froze up for a long moment, before collapsing against the other. Tom growled slightly in frustration at the cease of contact, but after a small breathing period Arcturus dropped to his knees, opening Tom's zip with an urgency that the younger man had never seen before. Then his pants were being pushed and he hissed as the cold air assaulted his hard cock in the darkened area.

There was a hoarse shot in the room, and it was only a few seconds before Tom realized that was HIS voice echoing off the halls, because obviously Arcturus' mouth was muffled. He breathed rapidly, trying to regain what little control he had left as he felt it slipping away, his entire body on fire as the older boy sucked just right, or sucked until his lips were flush with Tom's pubic bone, his breath causing moisture to gather there as Tom shoved his hands in Arcturus' hair, gripping tightly. His whole body tensed as the older boy groaned excitedly at the action.

Tom lost his breath and froze after that, his grip becoming increasingly tighter as Arcturus sucked him with a vengeance, almost pushing the two of them over before Tom was curling over the older boy with a loud, exhaled moan

"You look good on your knees," Tom murmured after he'd caught his breath, "especially, when it's for me."

"Do shut up, Tom," the older boy said, indignation coloring his voice.

"I bet I could get you there without using sex too,"

"Dream on,"

"I will," his smirk was definite and humor danced through his eyes. "I think I should go, though."

"Not one for pillow talk?"

"Maybe another time," Tom answered dryly.

"I need to speak it with you about something."

"Tomorrow?"

"If the time's right, sure."

Tom thought that was kind of vague but he shrugged it off as he tried to clear the fog that seemed to take over his mind. He was just kind of blank, and it felt weird not to have thoughts running through his mind continuously. He shrugged it off and made he was back to his Harry's chambers. He couldn't wait to show off what he'd learned. He'd have to give the man a while to adjust; he was still acting awkward over that kiss.

* * *

This wasn't a single occurrence, and the little meet ups he'd have with Arcturus would run late into the night. Most often than not, Tom would sneak back into his and Harry's rooms at early hours in the morning, hours after the older man had gone to bed. It was one of those things where Harry didn't ask, and Tom didn't tell. At least for a while.

There would be mornings where he'd try and con his way out of his first class, and Harry would get pissed at him for making up excuses he knew weren't valid. His Harry knew him far too well. It bugged the fuck out of him when he tried to get away with something.

Then, Harry started asking what time Tom would be home, and back from classes or from hanging out from Arcturus. Tom would usually throw out a random time between nine and eleven thirty, to try and appease the man, but when he was impossible to wake up in the morning, Tom knew he wasn't going to get away with it for much longer. He just hadn't realized how much damage he was doing to him and Harry, it was barely anything compared to their jealousy spats.

"Going to see Arcturus?"

"Yes?"

"When will you be back? It's a school night."

"When do you want me back?"

"Ten thirty."

"Okay."

"You'll be back by ten thirty then?"

"Of course, don't wait up if you get tired though. I don't want you getting sick like before again." Tom finished before closing the door between him and Harry as he made his way out.

"But then I won't know if you're lying or not, "Harry said to himself with a sigh. He moved from the kitchen to the sitting room, grabbing his bad of ungraded assignments as he did. He pulled the coffee table closer to the couch as he laid down, his back propped against the arm rest as he pulled a blanket over himself. He pulled his knees up and placed his papers against them. He summoned a quill and ink with a wave of his hand before getting to work on the assignments. He placed the ones he was finished with face down of the table.

Ten thirty came and went, and he wasn't surprised that it did. He stayed out in the sitting room, his annoyance building as the time passed.

Tom walked in around two forty five, completely nonchalant, as if he wasn't hours late.

"If you're not going to follow through don't give your word you will. Don't tell me you're going to do something you have no intention of doing from the start."

"I told you not to wait up,"

"When do you get to tell me what to do? I'm the adult here. There's a reason I give you a curfew. Don't think you're waking up late tomorrow. Do you really think if I had fallen asleep, you would have gotten away with it?"

"I haven't done anything wrong."

"So lying straight to my face means you've done nothing wrong? Thanks, Tom, that makes me feel fantastic," Harry replied nastily, his feeling hurt and his annoyance turning to anger and hurt.

"That's not what I meant."

"No, but it's what you said. You need to say what you mean, or no one will know what your intentions are. It's fine though, I just don't know whether you realize what you're doing.

"What would that be?"

"You're degrading and disregarding the only person who wouldn't do the same to you. You keep lying to the person who's not, and tries not, to lie to you. Yet you stand there and spit it in my face, day after day. Like the past few days. Don't tell me you're sick in the morning, Tom, I'll drag you out of bed if you do." The sheer anger and hurt Harry was feeling was evident on his face and Tom felt his stomach turn sour and drop. Before he could even reply, Harry was out of the living room, and locking himself in the bathroom, a tumbler in one hand and a bottle of bourbon in the other.

Harry rarely got mad at him, rarely was hurt by his actions. Was he jealous? Worried that he was spending so much time with Slytherins? Or just truly hurt that Tom would…lie to his face? Now that Tom looked at the situation, he clenched his eyes shut and breathed deeply, he'd fucked up. Not badly, but enough. The only person he trusted, even if it was only a little bit, was hurting because he'd thought the man wouldn't care. Well, not not care, because he knew Harry did, but maybe more that he wouldn't mind. Just like Tom didn't mind that he woke up some mornings to Harry already gone. He'd worried Harry, and that seemed to be a hard thing to do considering they lived under the same roof, and there was no immediate danger to either of them.

Tom wondered how he'd feel if Harry went out with Abraxas, Merlin help him, and didn't return the same night or following morning. Just the thought, the image, made his throat close up and his eyes sting.

He threw his book bag down next to the door and made his way to his room, well aware that Harry wouldn't be out of the loo anytime soon. He knew Harry didn't drink because he was angry; he drank so he could calm his nerves and go to sleep. Tom didn't understand how he could drink though, when the stuff smelled so foul, it burned just to smell. He shrugged off his robe, extinguished his lights, and made his way to bed.

* * *

Harry laid in the bad, his head lolled back, and his tumbler balancing on his knee, his finger tracing the rim, listening to the soft, light noise it made. He felt so angry, but at the same time, he felt…resigned? Tom would do what he wanted, regardless of what anyone wished of him. Usually, he'd do things to make Harry happy, yes, but even after so long Harry still wondered if the boy was trying to buy his love and acceptance. He could still feel phantom images of his stomach dropping, his heart beat louder in his ears than usual, the images of watching the clock, wondering where Tom was, annoyed at first when he was an hour of so late, and then worried and furious as the time marched on.

He was in Hogwarts, and Harry knew there wasn't a safer place, but Tom seemed to take after Harry, even if they weren't related, Trouble followed him. If it didn't follow him, Tom created it, and Harry didn't think Tom's age had anything to do with his ability to stir up chaos.

He took a slow sip from his tumbler and forcefully calmed himself, trying to remind him that the boy was curious, had made friends other than Harry here at Hogwarts, and him sneaking back from the Common Rooms was way easier than five Slytherins sneaking back from his room. The boy was pushing his limits, seeing what he could get away with, thinking old thoughts of not being cared about.

Harry wouldn't demand they cease, but he wouldn't give any more cause for them either. He would wait, however, for Tom to approach him and apologize. If he didn't, Harry didn't think he could do much more to help make Tom Riddle more human. He'd have loved to have someone like Tom had him. Jealous of his own idea, and wishing someone had done it for him…

He was here now, and he had Tom, just like Tom had him. So he didn't need anyone else. He finished his tumbler and lowered himself underwater. He banished the glass to the kitchen, rising up continuously until he was standing and reaching for a towel. He didn't bother to change, and just extinguished the lights once he was in the hallway and made his way to bed.

* * *

It was a long four days before Tom apologized, and Harry seriously wondered where the boy got that kind of stubbornness. When Tom spoke however, Harry realized it wasn't stubbornness that had kept him away.

Harry had just been walking in the door, back from classes as he lazily undid his robes before throwing them on a chair. When he looked up, Tom was sitting on the couch, curled up with his knees to his chest and a blanket around him.

"Did you go to class?"

"Yes," the boy said softly, "Can I …talk to you?"

"Are you going to apologize?"

"Maybe?" Tom seemed confused with himself and his thoughts and Harry almost felt bad for him. "Will you sit down with me?"

Harry did, "You've been home before the school wide curfew now."

"Yes, all that curfew breaking was messing up my sleep." There was silence for a few moments after that and Harry almost laughed at the lie, "I'm sorry,"

"For what you did, or that I called you on it?"

"I'm sorry for upsetting you. I didn't really pay attention to time when I was with the Slytherins, and since I hang with the older kids, they don't really go to sleep until two or three considering a lot of them have open periods through the day. That's no excuse though. I didn't mean to upset you and I…hate myself when I do make you upset.

It's so stupid, because you're right. You wouldn't do that to me, not if you could help it, and just thinking you would makes me upset. So, actually having it done must…suck."

Tom looked like he was going to speak again, but Harry just reached over and pulled the kid against his side, running his hands through Tom's decently long hair. They hadn't had it cut in a while and it fell below his ears.

"It's a whole bunch of emotional suck, and we both suck at communicating…" Harry murmured. Tom snuggled into his side, sighing softly, and Harry could tell that the sigh let off a lot more than used up air. He could practically feel Tom's whole body relax at once.

"You understand though, right?" He felt the answering nod against his side and smiled, "How was your time with the Slytherins?"

"Passable,"

"They must have pulled out the show stoppers to please you," Harry said with a laugh.

Tom just stuck out his tongue.

Everything was right…again.

Harry wondered how long it would last.

* * *

They'd been straight for a while after that, everyday up until today, actually. They'd spend the evenings after dinner relaxing on the couch, reading or talking. Sometimes they'd just lay in Harry's bed until Tom passed out and Harry carried him back to his room. Sometimes the boy would wake up in the middle of the night, and Harry would find him curled up next to him the next morning from a nightmare.

Tom would still give him weird looks, and Harry tried to ignore them, tried to ignore the huge situation that surrounded them now that Tom had kissed him. He tried not to pay attention to the fact that Arcturus seemed to be jealous of Tom spending more time with Harry, when it used to be the other way around.

Tom had been avoiding him all day; he knew he wasn't just imagining it either. Tom had even skipped his Defense class today, which Harry was slightly irked about. Tom had never skipped Harry's class, let alone any other, so Harry wanted to know what was going on with the young man.

Things had been a little weird after Tom's kiss in early December, very, very awkward. The event had not only mortified him, but now he was more aware of Tom's...quirks. There'd be times that he would be arguing or just talking with Tom, when he could see and almost feel the young man's urge to throw him down for a repeat of The Kiss; so it had been dubbed.

He walked his way into the kitchen, just walking around idly, and noticed that dinner was set out. There was a plate with a bunch of his favorite foods on it, and right next to it, there was note. From years of seeing it, Harry knew it was Tom's.

_I'm hanging out with Arcturus. – Tom_

Short and to the point, as usual. Harry sat and began to eat, pushing his food around the plate. All he really wanted to do was lie on the sofa and watch movies with Tom. Valentine's day sucked.

He pushed his plate a way and went to lie down in bed. His blankets still pushed to the side in a heap from that morning.

He jumped on the bed, his back falling against the comfortable mattress. He realized though, that the bed didn't bounce as much as it regularly did.

As he was reaching over to shift the blankets, he felt a hand moving up his thigh, before a warm body rolled on top of him. The blankets hung around Tom as Harry stared up at the young man, his face clearly showing surprise.

He knew it was wrong; he really did, especially because of his hero/martyr complex. He whimpered pathetically as Tom grinded down on him, so much like last time. The lust and sexual tension he'd been trying to ignore the past two and a half months was coming to a crescendo, to the point he thought he was in pain.

His biggest fear at the moment - all thoughts of the changed future or outcome of this travel out of his mind - was Tom stopping.

"You're way too young…" Harry spoke breathily a moment later, his hangs clenched in the blanks.

Tom only smirked at him, grinding down hard, "I'll grow,"

"You're my son,"

"Not biologically, we don't even have the same last name,"

There was a long silence filled with heavy breathing, keening, moaning.

"You're infuriating, Tom, especially when you're right,"

"I always get what I want, Harry, you know that,"

"Oh, yes, I know, I raised you, you little heathen,"

"You don't mean that, Harry, you're just feeling a little stressed out because they'll think you're a monster if they find out, but they won't, so let me take that stress away for you."

Tom grinned impishly before he slowly started to rotate his hips. Harry arched, slowly pushing back as he panted softly. Tom looming over him, hands rested by both sides of his head on the bed, a look of wonder on his face as he stared down at the older man.

Harry's head pushed back against the mattress, his cheeks flushed red and his mouth open slightly in panting breaths. Tom groaned at the sight before leaning down to lay open mouth kisses against the older man's neck, smirking through them when he felt Harry's hands tighten on his hips. He let his touch push against muscles in the man's throat and relished in the moans he heard. His hips were still moving in slow, teasing motions and he could feel Harry's grip get almost painfully tight. He pushed down harder, pulling the man into a kiss.

It was hot and harsh, Tom biting Harry's lips, pulling on them between his teeth, and then soothing them over with his tongue. It only made Harry wilder as he moved his hands up Tom's body and fisted his hands in the boy's hair.

Tom felt the dominance of the act roll through him, and it left him hotter than he'd ever been and throbbing, he realized he could hear himself…keening, and he closed his eyes with the feelings, unashamed when it happened because of Harry. No one else would have this control over him; no one else would have this control over Harry. Tom would make sure of it.

He felt euphoria take over him, when Harry rolled them. Tom ended up on his back with Harry between his legs before the man lost what little control he had left, one hand in Tom's hair, the other by the side of his head. Returning open mouthed kisses on Tom's next, murmuring his name in a continuous litany that had Tom's eyes wide and his breathing shallow as he clenched his hands in Harry's clothes.

Harry was saying his name, and Tom was the one doing this to him, the one making him lose control, and he absolutely loved it. It wasn't the rush of power that he got when he did the same to Arcturus. It was warmth, and things he couldn't explain. Maybe one day he would be able.

It's how he knew the difference between messing around with Arcturus and loving Harry. The other boy was a tool he needed to use in order to be like this for Harry, no matter how much he loved the boy; he would not go into this an amateur. He wanted everything to be perfect. He didn't want Harry to think he was naïve and unlearned and give him another reason to push him away because of his youngness.

He slept in Harry's been that night, once all was said and done, and having those strong but comforting arms wrapped around him all night, with a warm body pressed up against him, took him to a place he'd never been before, and he knew never wanted to leave.

He refused to.

* * *

They were eating dinner in the Great Hall, Tom sitting at the Slytherin table with Arcturus. The more they hung out, though, the more Tom realized that Arcturus' old friends didn't hang out with the Black as much. Tom shrugged it off though, for another time. They were just finishing when Arcturus spoke, "Hey, do you want to hang out tonight? You haven't been around in a while."

Tom thought of Harry, and how things had been so much better lately, so much more comfortable. He felt...bad for Arcturus' though,

"Sure, but I have to be back by curfew. I've been getting in a lot of trouble lately.

"Were you grounded?" Black asked playfully.

"No, just having some family time,"

"Sure,"

Tom rolled his eyes, but rose with the boy to exit the Great Hall. They took a detour through the dungeons, taking the long way to the common room so they could talk. It was idle chatter, but Tom could tell Arcturus wanted to ask him more; there would be awkward silences that Tom knew the boy wanted to fill. He shrugged it off though, and told himself if Arcturus had something to say, he'd say it, the older boy wasn't really quiet with his thoughts.

They were just making their way out of an unused part of the castle when Tom caught the voices. It seemed Arcturus didn't though.  
"Who does he think he is? Hanging out with a mudblood, putting a blemish on the pureblood status he has, putting a stain on all purebloods, especially a younger mudblood, who got into Slytherin no less!"

The voices were getting closer, and Tom realized they would end up passing the group as they walked by. Things couldn't be that simple though, because when Rosier saw them, his face twisted in malice and Tom had a really bad feeling that things were about to go bad. He reached out and grabbed Arcturus' arm, bring the boy to a stop and obviously snapping him out of his thought.

"Well, well, look who we have here. We were_ just_ talking about you, Black, and how low you've sunk."

"Watch your mouth, Rosier," Black spat, "And just how have I sunken so low?"

"Hanging with a Mudblood!"

"Half-blood,"

"And you defend him!" Rosier snarled pulling his wand out, "You're a disgrace and need to be put in your place, Black!"

Before Tom could even move, he realized he_ couldn't move_. Arcturus was on the ground crying out in agony as Rosier laughed. All Tom could do was watch.

The boys didn't pay him any mind, he wasn't _worth_ their attention it seemed, and before long they'd run; all but one, who rushed over to Arcturus, frantic as he tried to wake the boy up. Tom could feel himself come back and he heard himself speaking before he knew what he wanted to say. His voice shook, and he felt like the scared boy from Diagon Alley all those years ago, and he absolutely hated how weak he felt, how hopeless he felt when someone important to him was being attacked. What if that had been Harry? What if the spells hadn't been just grade school hexes?

"What'd you say to me, Mudblood? It's your fault he's like this. If he didn't hang out with you, he wouldn't have been targeted."

"I said you're doing it wrong. You can't wake him up, you can't shake him, he has a concussion, and you're only going to make it worse."

"You made it this bad to begin with, fuck off, Riddle!"

Tom saw red and hexed the boy away from Arcturus before he could do anymore damage. The boy, Merlin if he knew the arse's name, slammed against the wall and was knocked out cold.

Tom knelt next to Arcturus and pulled his head into his lab, whispering an _eskipey_ over his head to heal the gash that was slowly dripping blood. He made sure the boy had an even breathing pattern before casting a few more spells on him, an elation he couldn't explain passing over him when Arcturus' body seemed to relax slightly.

As he was walking away, he woke the other boy up and told him to take Arcturus to the Infirmary, if he managed to mess that up; he was infinitely more stupid than he let on.

He had the insane urge to see Harry, to make sure his imaginations and thoughts were just fantasy.

So that's what he did. He made his way back to their rooms. Just the thoughts he'd had, of Harry possibly being attacked and him freezing up like an idiot made him shake. It was so frustrating. All he could do was watch, and he didn't know why. Had he been scare? Shocked? Unsure? Had he not cared about Arcturus enough?

No, he did care about the older boy and that's what made it worse. He'd totally frozen up, had been completely and utterly pathetic. That wasn't the type of person he'd ever been. Not at the orphanage, not with Harry, and not at Hogwarts. He'd never allow himself to freeze up like that again. Harry might not care what his last name was, or whose blood was inside of him, but the other Slytherins did. He had something to prove to them, and he would prove it.

He was already first in all the classes, and friends with Arcturus, but he'd have that whole house at his beck and call by the time he graduated. He wouldn't accept anything less of himself. If Headmaster Dippet didn't deal with Rosier, then Tom definitely would. He'd handle it, personally, and Rosier would never attack Arcturus again, or even think about harming either of them.

He had that uncontrollable urge to see Harry though, to make sure with his own two hands and eyes that the older man was safe. His imagination was running away from him, and he continuously saw Harry falling with the curse from Rosier's lips instead of Arcturus. It enraged him, it made his insides sour, and it left him…afraid.

He hadn't felt fear like that since he'd been in the orphanage, no matter how apathetic he'd been towards his caretakers; they could definitely instill fear in anything that crossed their paths.

He turned the last hallway to their rooms and entered quickly and quietly, slipping off his robe and shoes, dropping his bag by the door, before making his way to Harry's bedroom where he could feel the other man was. He wasn't disappointed to walk in and see Harry lying on his side with a book open on the bed and Harry hanging over it.

He slid in next to the older man and lay against his back. Taking so much more comfort than he'd ever felt when being this close to Harry. Over a stupid school boy quarrel, he now valued Harry far more than he ever had, but what was wrong with that?

"Hey, Tomtom, what's up? You okay?" Harry asked after turning to see the boy curled against his back.

"Had a bad day,"

When Tom offered up no more information than that, Harry knew pushing would do nothing, so he just pulled the boy close to his side and wrapped an arm around his shoulders while he continued to read his book, a few fingers playing with the strands of hair that reached below Tom's chin. It relaxed him and he closed his eyes as leaned against Harry.

He never liked anyone touching him before. He barely could stand it when Arcturus touched him, but his Harry was here, touching him idly, and Tom basked in the attention the other man offered him freely. It was so confusing how the touches could differ so much for the same action. It was such a contrast that everything he had every disregarded or ignored, now meant so much more to him.

He wondered how Arcturus was doing, and wondered if that stupid boy had made it safely to the infirmary with him. If not, Tom thought, he'd be taking care of him too.

The annoyance and anger he felt at the group who'd attacked Arcturus was cold and calm. He thought that was a good thing. It let him dwell on it, plan and scheme without having to worry about losing control of himself. Rosier's friends were just as responsible for Arcturus' state as Rosier was. To stand there idly while Arcturus was attacked, while a fellow pureblood was attacked.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by a knocking on their chamber door. He curled into the area Harry had been laying when the man rose to open the door. He was gone for a few minutes, and Tom could distinctly make out the voices of Headmaster Dippet and Professor Dumbledore.

"Let me talk with him for a mo," Harry told them before Tom could hear him entering the room.

"Tom, did you and Arcturus get into a fight."

"No," Tom answered sourly.

"Then why is he in the hospital wing?"

"Because Rosier attacked him,"

"That's not what Zabini told Headmaster Dippet, he said you're responsible for Arcturus being in the infirmary."

"No, I'm not!" Tom almost screamed in outrage before looking away, breathing, calming himself. "Rosier and his friends, along with Zabini, heard Arcturus and me, but not before I heard them. Rosier was talking about putting Arcturus in his place for hanging around a _mudblood_ so often and with such friendliness. So he attacked us when he came about us and all I could do was bloody watch and do fucking nothing because I was…scared, I was hesitant and Arcturus paid for it. Zabini tried to wake him up, or something and I told him he was doing it wrong and he was going to only hurt Arcturus further. He brushed me off, and I absolutely hated how he'd done it, considering I had been Arcturus' friend far more actively than he had. So, I blasted him against the wall, and healed Arcturus to the best of my knowledge and then woke the kid up to take Arcturus to the infirmary while I came here. Because I had wondered what I would have done if you'd been in Arcturus' position and it unsettled me, so I came home."

_Home_. Harry savored the word as he sat down on his bed, pulling Tom closer, "Well, it was your first time in the situation, you'll out grow it, and I'm sure you'd never let me get hurt. Now, why would Zabini blame you?"

"He's jealous, he _likes_ Arcturus, but he won't give him the time of day because Arcturus _likes_ me. He set me up."

"And you use Arcturus to your advantage, don't you?"

"Of course, he knows it though, and I'm almost positive he doesn't mind."

"So that's where you learned it all…Anyway, a discussion for another time. I'll be right back."

So Tom listened as Harry told them his story, and listened in fascination as he talked circles around them before ushering them out with a simple, "You will find the person you're looking for goes by the last name Rosier and shall be in the Slytherin common rooms, Tom just got between a little jealousy spat and got blamed. He hasn't done anything wrong, so have a great night gentlemen." Then he heard the door close, the lock slide into place and Harry's magic permeate their rooms before Harry was crawling back into bed with him.

"You can't play Arcturus forever; pretty soon he's going to want something in return. Or he'll get his suspicions about us because you're not giving him the time of day anymore. You need to be careful, Tom." Harry murmured before giving the boy a kiss.

"How'd you get rid of them so quickly?" Tom asked in fascination, "You talked circles around them and they barely even noticed, I bet they didn't realize it until they were standing on the other side of the door."

Harry's laugh echoed happily through their rooms and Tom felt himself grow warm from the pleasure of putting Harry in such a state, "Don't worry, Tomtom, you'll be good at it one day, far better than I am, I'm sure, after all, you are the heir of Slytherin."

And then it clicked.

Tom was the heir of Slytherin, that's how he'd totally dominate the house by the end of the semester. He felt himself smirk.

"Harry, where's Salazar?"


	15. Chapter 15

"Can I have another kiss?"

Harry gave him a hard look, but Tom just returned it with a cockily flirty one, "Why should I have to wait until I'm older, just because it's you, anything we don't do I'll just have to do with Arcturus."

"Ouch, Tom, that hurts, and it's not going to bribe me to debauch you more quickly. Not in today's society. If anyone found out, they'd take you away from me. End of story, there'd be no stopping them. I'd be labeled a monster and you a fragile victim, and besides, unlike you. I'm not so comfortable in my own skin right now."

"Are you ashamed?"

"No, just coming to terms, I didn't know I was gay, I sure as hell didn't know I was a pedophile either." _Didn't know I loved Voldemort either…._

"You're not a pedophile, Harry, it's totally consensual,"

"It doesn't matter, Tom, they'll paint it however they like, and no matter what you say, until you're older, they'll just pat you on your head and think you've got the mindset of a captive victim. They'll think you were taught to reply like that. They'll think I molded you while you were young, so you'd do what I wanted when you were older,"

Tom gave a sour look, and Harry could practically hear the unsaid words of Tom: whatever, he could imagine the boy saying, but instead, Tom answered him, "Merlin forbid, someone splash mud on the amazing Gryffindor. I'll keep quiet for now, but when I'm older and I know they can't take you from me, because I dominant them in power, I swear everyone will know you're mine."

Tom thought Harry looked far too amused at his words before the older man inclined his head, "of course, Tomtom," and that stupid giggle had Tom reaching across the bed to tickle Harry. And when he ended up on top of Harry and had both of his hands pinned in one of his own while his free hand tickled the other boy, he didn't even pretend he was going to kiss Harry, he just did, and smiled when Harry kissed back even though he'd fought against it earlier while they'd talked.

(Harry/Tom)

The next day, Harry and Tom went to breakfast with a plus one, Salazar. The snake liked to spend most of his time curled up by the fire, or buried underneath Tom's laundry, in his dresser when trying to stay warm. The more time Tom spent with the Slytherins, the more time Salazar spent with Harry and Harry's dresser.

The snake was slung around Tom's neck and the boy's smirk was positively conniving as he split off from Harry and made his way towards the Slytherin table. Arcturus must've of gotten released from the hospital wing yet that morning because he wasn't at breakfast. Tom sat down next to Zabini just to be spiteful.

"Jealous much?" He asked the boy.

Rosier sat across from them, obviously enraged at the nerve Tom had, to sit by them.

He could hear Salazar against his ear though and tuned out Zabini's answer as the snake hissed to him. _They obviously don't know who you are, Tomtom... If they think they can direct their anger towards you, they smell nasty; can I bite one, please? I won't leave any venom, promise, Harry will never know._

"What are you doing with a snake, Riddle, it's not like you can understand them. That's a dangerous pet to have at Hogwarts; did they make an exception for you since your _Daddy_ works here?"

"Actually, Rosier, I can speak to him, _isn't that right there, Salazar?_" he finished. The astonished silence that over took the Slytherin table was like wildfire.

"Didn't you ever wonder how a half-blood made it into Slytherin? No, well, let me tell you. I'm Slytherin's Heir, and no one, not even you and you're pathetic posse of inbreeds is going to stop me from taking my rightful place in Slytherin. I won't be talked down to by you, and if you don't stop, I'll open the Chamber of Secrets, just for you." Tom finished sweetly; he could hear the murmurs around the table.

_"Isn't there a basilisk down there?"_

_"So much potential, I knew he was special when Arcturus took a liking to him,"_ the tidbit reminded him of Arcturus and he took the opportunity that was presented to him.

"And I don't appreciate you attacking my friend, Arcturus, you may have a few people in your little circle, but you've just made your way into Slytherin's bad graces when you attacked him. Black's a lot more likeable than you are, don't you agree, Nott?"

"Yes, he is. I can't believe you'd attack one of our own, Rosier, what is wrong with you, and the Heir to the Noble house of Black no less, what is wrong with you, they're on par with the Malfoys and far darker in nature, have you lost your mind? If Arcturus delivers his revenge swiftly and silently, you should be so lucky."

"I have nothing to fear from Arcturus," Rosier replied haughtily, "He's nothing to me, couldn't even protect himself then, won't be able to protect himself now."

"Ambushing someone should not be boasted about, and he won't need to protect himself next time, Rosier, I'll squash you like the bug you are." Tom almost hissed, his words becoming slightly sibilant and the people around him shifting nervously.

"Coming from the mudblood, who stood there and cowered."

"We'll call it, first time jitters, but next time, you won't be so lucky."

A sick grin took over Rosier's face and he leaned across the table, "One of these days, I'm going to have to introduce you to someone, Riddle, he'll put you in your place."

"Shut up, Rosier! If anything, He'd appreciate Tom's ability, unlike you!" Arcturus snarled coming up behind Tom, his hand landing on the boy's shoulder as Zabini moved over to make room for him.

"It's a bet then, Black. We'll introduce him sometime this year or next, if I win, you're mine." Rosier said with a leer.

"If I win?" Arcturus asked silkily, lifting a brow, "You leave Tom alone. You leave me alone."

"Deal. You're be eating your words soon enough."

* * *

So it had become a game and when fall term came around Tom was smack dab in the middle of it, little would he know, that soon, Harry would be as well.

There were nights that Arcturus would try and sneak him away, would try and introduce him to the people that would decide the fate of The Bet. Every time they walked away from the encounters though, it seemed Arcturus' hero-worship seemed to increase, and Tom's pride would swell, it was so easy, almost too easy, to charm the people they were meeting into liking him. It was almost pathetic how easily he could read them, and reply to please them. Arcturus found it both humorous and arousing and told Tom such every time.

He had Harry, though; he didn't need the black haired boy. It was nice though. Especially, when Harry was being difficult, or Arcturus had something he wanted.

The attention from Grindelwald's followers was…magnificent though, and Tom reveled in it, knowing that one day, this is what he wanted for himself.

This type of reverence and respect, this type of adoration.

It was intoxicating and unlike anything he'd ever felt before.

He wanted more.

* * *

"You've been spending a lot of time with your friends lately." Harry said, trying to start small talk over dinner in their rooms.

"Yeah, Rosier and Arcturus have a bet going on; I want to see how it turns out. Besides, I didn't see any of them all summer, they only wrote."

"That's true. What's the bet about?"

"No clue, but if Arcturus wins, Rosier will leave us alone."

"I hope he wins then, that boy is an annoyance."

Tom looked surprised at the harsh comment but continued eating without a word.

"Just be careful, Rosier doesn't exactly associate with the best of people. He'll humiliate you to get his way."

"How would you know?"

"A friend?"

"Abraxas?" Tom snapped harshly, jealously.

"Merlin, no, his name is Gel. He's my penpal and from what I've seen, I think his words have merit."

"Well, yeah, I think so too. Oh, well, we'll deal with him as it comes."

"Be careful?"

"Always." Tom answered, sharing a soft smile with Harry.

* * *

_Green-eyes,_

_Maybe you've heard, maybe you haven't, but it's become the talk of the town that little Arcturus Black, Tom Riddle and Alec Rosier have a bet going around. To see which way my attitude would favor when meeting your charge. I don't particularly care for the outcome, but since Tom's your charge. I thought I should warn you that little Rosier is a menace, even by my standards, marvelous, no? By this, make your charge be weary, Rosier is petty, barbaric, and jealous. He'll do whatever it takes, even if it isn't a smart or logical idea. He cares for nothing but himself and does it for his own revenge, not to prove anything or gain approval. _

_You so rarely reply to me, Harry. I've been so nice though. Has that old man Dumbledore finally gotten a hold of you too? I mean no harm, you see? I only wish to converse with you more._

_Gellert_

Harry put the letter back in his desk and warded the draw and the rest of the letters with it.

(Harry/The Dark Lord)

"I want to take you to meet some associates tonight."

"Alright, I just have to be back before classes start this time. Before was treacherous and I got a lecture on curfew."

"Against all the advantages of having a Professor as a dad, that one probably is the worst disadvantage."

"Harry didn't lecture me, Professor Slughorn did, which is also why I didn't lose any points for Slytherin."

"I didn't know that, how'd you get caught?"

"I wouldn't have, but Slughorn has an unnatural ability to just...find me, it's really disconcerting."

"Yes, I imagine it is, do you mind leaving straight after dinner? That way we can get you back before bed time!" Arcturus teased happily.

"Yeah, sure, let me just go tell Harry." Tom said before standing.

Once all was said and down, they changed out of their school robes and headed into Hogsmead to pass the anti-apparition wards. Arcturus side longed him, and it was still a feeling Tom didn't think he'd get used to as they landed in the middle of a busy promenade. There were plenty more people than Tom had ever seen in Diagon Alley at one time.

"Where are we?"

"A town outside of Drumstang, this is His territory, and most of these people are His, so no one's really afraid to be around."

"Makes sense, they feel safe in their own territory."

"Exactly, let's going, we're meeting them at a cafe a few blocks away."

Tom was mystified by all the witches and wizards, teens and kids. They were all of different standing and seemed to blend well, and even though this was probably one of the pinnacle cities of the war, everyone seemed to be having a good time while being courteous to others. He stood close to Arcturus and followed the black haired boy into the cafe.

They met three people, two women and a male, and Tom was starting to realize that war wasn't a man's game anymore. He smiled graciously at the three and felt pride at the fact his smile made the women swoon. He shook hands with the man, Marco, he learned, before daintily kissing both of the girls' hands. Diana and Isobel seemed to take kindly to him, and their friend just seemed to roll his eyes at their antics.

"That game goes both ways, better watch out," Marco warned Tom before they made their way to a reserved table. Marco started the conversation properly then as they were served drinks.

"So, this is Tom Riddle, the Slytherin Heir I've heard so much about."

"I hope it's all good, sir," Tom said with a look to Arcturus.

"Ah, Black wouldn't sell you out if his life depended on it, Riddle, no worries there."

"His foul,"

"A sense of humor, I love it! Anyw-"

There was a blast off to the side, just a few feet from where they were sitting, and Tom jumped to his feet, his wand at the ready this time, he would not be made a fool of. Especially, not in front of three representatives of the rising Dark Lord. Not if he wanted the intoxicating power he'd had a taste of recently.

He cast a dispersion charm and the smoke wafted away quickly, he caught the perpetrators as they were making a dash for the exit. Tom recognized one, Zabini, he fired off a stunner as Arcturus fumbled for his wand in the corner of his vision. The three representatives seemed to step back, becoming spectators of the attack.

Zabini went down hard and fast, midway through a sprint as someone Tom didn't recognized turned back and fired a slashing hex towards him. His mistake to stay.

Tom threw up a _protego _before throwing out his other hand and casting _Sectumsempra_ through his shield, he watched the curse travel, hit, and slice the second boy's chest open. It seemed to go from hip bone to shoulder, and Tom watched how quickly his clothes were ruined. He remembered the curse, how easily it came to mind. _For enemies_, the side script had noted. There were two books he'd seen it in. A worn down old potions book that had the side script, and a hand written journal of nonsense that Harry had left out. Who writes about Lockets, Cups and Diadams?

By the time it was done, Arcturus was just gaining his bearings. "Are you alright, Arcturus?"

"Yes...Tom..."

"We should have made sure we weren't followed, stupid mistake; we'll know better next time. I bet you six sickles this was Rosier's work."

"No doubt, we all know there's no lost love between you and Zabini, whether I'm with you or not, and he's always been part of Rosier's crew."

"I think he loses by default."

"I as well,"

Tom walked towards the unknown boy, tilting his head towards Zabini for Arcturus; he put his foot on the boy's chest and leaned down so they were nearly face to face, "I'm supposing that Rosier sent you. I suppose you didn't expect me to fight back. He lied to you, obviously, and now, you're screwed, because I'm assuming you just tried to attack your superiors with your horrible aim?" Tom questioned, loud enough for the other three to hear, looking to them for an answer. They nodded, recognizing the boy when Tom turned the boy's face to see who he had addressed.

"He said...you'd be pathetic," the boy whispered.

"Like I said, first time jitters, it will not happen again," Tom said firmly, "Rosier thinks he can humiliate me, but obviously, he's only humiliating himself...and you I suppose, if you have any pride at all, following a younger boy than you with matters you know nothing about. Does he outrank you? Or maybe, you think he'll put in a good word for you with his father. You should have known better. He wouldn't have shared the glory, had you succeeded, only ratted you out as the perpetrators, if you hadn't of been caught by your associates. Thanks for confessing so quickly, all three of you are probably going to be in serious trouble, carrying out unauthorized missions, are you stupid?" Tom chuckled darkly, "You must be. You're lucky you don't have to deal with me, more than this," Tom hissed.

The boy closed his eyes and even through his paleness from the loss of blood, he could see a shameful blush take over his face.

Tom turned as Isobel and Marco stepped up behind him, silently angry as they looked down at the two boys, "Perhaps, if you confess to Lord Grindelwald, like you confessed to Mister Riddle, he may not punish you as harshly, mindless sheep are less bothersome than their Sheppard's." Isobel spoke icily.

Tom almost let out a laugh at the insult before turning to them, "Sorry our meeting had to be cut short,"

"It's quite alright, Tom, we've learned far more with, than if we'd just talked." Marco replied, a smirk gracing his features as he leaned down to grab the boy by his arm, pulling him up harshly, like he wasn't almost matching the older man in size.

"We'll deal with these boys ourselves, you two best get back to Hogwarts before anything else happens," Diana said idly, making a face at the two attackers, like they were something to be thrown out, instead of dealt with.

* * *

"I can't believe he thought that'd work. I can't believe he attacked us when we were with upper tier members of the Dark's army." Arcturus said with a laugh, "You sure talk smooth and dangerous though," he moved closer to Tom, caressing Tom's hand with his own, tracing lightly over the palm of his hand and inner side of his wrist, "Sexy,"

"Slytherin,"

"Same thing when it comes to you,"

"I really need to go to sleep, Arcturus, I'm exhausted. A rain check for tomorrow?"

"Only if I get a kiss,"

"Of course," Tom said, obliging. He controlled the kiss and kept it just on the edge of teasing before brushing black hair out of Arcturus' face. "Good night, I'll see you tomorrow at breakfast."

"Of course, Tom," Arcturus answered before starting the trek to the Slytherin common rooms.

Tom made his way to his and Harry's rooms, he couldn't wait to get back and lay against Harry on the couch, relaxing somewhere safe. Rosier was stupid, and if Grindelwald didn't deal with him, Tom surely would. He couldn't stand incompetent people that tried to interfere with his plans.

When he got back to their rooms, Harry wasn't there, he grabbed a pillow from the man's room after checking there for him before plopping down on the couch and thinking over his earlier encounter, at least he hadn't froze up again.

* * *

"Harry," said man turned to look at the man who'd purred his name. He felt agitation flood him. This wasn't what he wanted after having to deal with Slughorn lecturing him on controlling Tom, and having him in before curfew. A few friendly words from the man after he saw Arcturus and Tom leave after dinner. Harry wondered why he always tracked down Tom and never Arcturus.

"Abraxas, how lovely to see you again." Harry murmured, starting to move away from the man and continue on his way.

He was stopped, however, when Abraxas placed a firm grip on his shoulder, pulling Harry to a standstill. Harry just barely stopped himself from flipping the man over his shoulder by the hand on his shoulder, and then kicking his face in. That would be bad though, so he took a deep breath, put on a completely fake, but actually annoyed, smile and turned towards the other man.

"I know," Abraxas spoke quietly, his voice condescending as he eyed Harry up and down, licking his lips slowly. It would have been seductive if Harry wasn't pissed at the man and completely smitten with Tom. Harry's face closed though, and he grabbed Abraxas's wrist.

"You do? I must wonder what you know about, however, as I can't read minds, I haven't a clue what you're talking about."

Abraxas moved closer, using Harry's hold on him to pull the younger man towards him. "Haven't you ever heard of the word pedophile, Harry? I thought you; with your shining Gryffindor and Slytherin traits would have at least had the decency or discretion to hide such things."

Harry smiled at the other man, a smile of a predator. One that Abraxas didn't recognize on anyone but himself, so he didn't know what was in store for him when Harry slid his hand from the blonde's wrist, up his arm, to settle on the nape of the man's neck as he moved even closer.

"Really? Me, play with boys?" Harry spit the word out as if it burned his tongue before tilting his head to the side and adding a light lilt to his voice as he spoke. "I'm much more of a man's man, you know that."

"Indeed," Abraxas murmured, wrapping his arms around the lithe man's waist, "Are you ready to prove it, Harry?"

"What's there to prove?"

"You've turned me down, and I'm more of a man than any child could be."

"My mistake, I was confused. It was very awkward. You must accept my apology."

"My rooms, now?"

Harry only lowered his eyes and nodded, biting his lip lightly, noticing how Abraxas followed his every movement.

Abraxas only smirked, as if he'd won the game at last. He pulled away from Harry, grabbing the younger man's hand as he headed them to his rooms. Being the school's governor, he often had guestrooms, so that when he needed to be at the school for an extended period, he was assured a place to sleep.

Harry was following behind him shyly, and Abraxas knew that the rumors had been to his advantage. There was no way they were true with the amount of innocence the younger man was radiating.

_You know, for a snake, he's pretty stupid. You have to wonder where Lucius learned it all_. Harry thought to himself as he was pulled along by the man's hand.

It wasn't long before Abraxas had him in a secluded part of the castle, leading him to his guestrooms. They didn't even get halfway into the room, however, before Abraxas pushed Harry against the door, closing it when he slammed Harry against it. Then Harry's breath escaped him as the man ravaged him wildly. It felt more like assault than anything and Harry slowly let his magic work itself as he lay compliantly against the door. Abraxas would regret this later. Harry knew this one thing for sure.

He was also supremely positive that Tom would not fare well with this interaction. If anything, things would only get worse. The older the boy became, the more possessive he became of Harry. At almost fifteen, he would barely let anyone near Harry unless it was absolutely possible, especially if they were in public and no one recognized them. There was also the fact that Tom matched him in height now, and people usually thought they were siblings and not father and son; thankfully, lovers never crossed anyone's minds when they were careful.

Harry was brought back to the present though when Abraxas shoved his legs apart roughly, thrusting against the smaller body. Harry, having had enough of the man handling, pushed Abraxas back until the man landed on the couch. Wandlessly, he secured the room.

"It's not nice to blackmail people, Abraxas, especially people stronger and smarter than you. You should be lucky your wife is already pregnant, otherwise there would have been no hope for an heir with the spells I've put on you. I'm going to turn your pleasure, into your most feared pain." Harry murmured seductively, straddling the man.

Abraxas didn't seem to understand the words as the younger man rocked against him. Igniting his arousal to the point he was gasping, his pleasure bordering on pain. All he knew at that moment was that Harry was like a human Apollo, and he wanted to possess the younger boy, to own him.

He sighed in pleasure before a whimper escaped him. It kept going and going, and there was no ridge or cliff. His pleasure and arousal just kept escalating. He was in pain now, a pain he couldn't describe as he'd never felt it before. He felt Harry lean towards him in his haze as he took huge lung fills of air with each breath.

"Don't you ever try and use Tom against me again, you might not be this lucky if it happens again." Harry spoke firmly and clearly, knowing his point was across when Abraxas eyes widened slightly. "To seal the deal." Harry murmured, leaning forward more to kiss the man, his tongue demanding entrance. Once he was sure the man had a taste of him. One he could identify as Harry, the green-eyed boy pulled away, satisfied. "No one else will ever compare to me, because no one else will ever get you up." Harry murmured.

With a smirk, he pushed off the man, straightened his robes and left the room. Abraxas' pants followed him until he'd closed the portrait door. He let a self-satisfied smirk cross his features as he shoved his hands in his trouser pockets and began the walk back to his and Tom's rooms. The boy wouldn't be happy with Abraxas, but he'd be awed by Harry. Even though the young man was exceptionally smart, even now. Harry still had a few things to show him, and vice versa.

He walked into the living room. The only light filtering in from the fireplace. Tom was curled up on the couch, clutching one of Harry's pillows. Harry smiled softly as he pulled his cloak off, setting it on a chair before moving to the couch. Laying against Tom and allowing his head to settle against the boy's lap where his pillow was.

"How was your day?"

Tom hissed slightly before answering, "Horrible. Rosier tried to tip the bet's scale by attacking me and Rosier today. He lost though, horribly."

"Do I need to talk to someone's head of house?"

"I don't want special treatment."

"You're special to me. Tom, it's not a problem." Harry smiled at him before leaning forward to kiss him softly. Then there was a rough hand ripping at his hair.

"You smell like Abraxas."

Harry only smiled up at Tom's possessiveness. "He thought he could blackmail me with you, to get what he wanted. I showed him how very wrong he was. He should be so grateful that his wife is already pregnant with a child."

"What'd you do to him?" Tom asked curiously.

"He'll never enjoy his adultery or oubliette life ever again. I've tricked his mind into believing any arousal he feels is pain. He'll learn his lesson nicely, or, if there's a next time, painfully."

Tom seemed to be looking at him in a slight awe as he ran one hand through the older man's hair, looking down at Harry with a small wonder he probably wasn't aware of. Harry smiled to himself. Realizing the Tom Riddle of before would never have shown these emotions to anyone. If he had, they would have been fake and manipulative.

He closed his eyes and hummed happily for a moment as Tom kissed him.

Small, shy kisses, as he tested the water of Harry's mood that day. Would he go all Gryffindor and say no? Or was he in more of a Slytherin mood with the attitude of a lush? When his kisses weren't turned away, he smirked happily against the lips, deepening the kisses as Harry wrapped his arms around Tom's waist and pulled the younger into his lap, plundering his mouth with his own as a firm hand crawled up Tom's shirt. The skin was warm and smooth, goosebumps crawling across his skin as Harry touched him lightly, his stomach muscles tensing with the teasing touch. Not knowing whether it was arousing or ticklish yet.

He felt like he was on fire though, but Harry seemed so calm and in control, except for the small pants of breathe that left him between kisses. Was that how Arcturus saw him? He shook the thought out of his head and keened when the hand on his stomach moved down, before a hand dipped under the waist of his pants and Harry's hand was wrapped around his boxer clad erection. His breathe left him and his back tensed as he pushed back against the man, pulling away from the kiss to get some of his breath back.

Harry's lips went to his neck, light and teasing. He pushed against the mouth, silently asking for more.

"Can't leave any marks, wouldn't want Arcturus to get jealous." Tom heard the annoyance laced underneath the displayed amusement, feeling guilt slam into him. He squashed it down for another time. Harry rarely didn't tell him no, and he wasn't going to pass up a chance when he did.

Harry was firm and sure, fast but not reckless with it. Tom tried to put it to memory. Was this how Harry touched himself? He wanted to moan out the other boy's name, but thought it sound stupid. So instead he grabbed Harry's other hand, bringing it to his mouth as he laced their fingers together and put a kiss on the back of his palm, holding Harry's hand to his mouth.

Harry seemed to find it arousing, or perhaps endearing knowing the Gryffindor, and his strokes became firmer as his thumb teased Tom's tip mercilessly.

Tom had never come so hard.

* * *

"Harry, where are we going?"

"It's a surprise, Tom, now be quiet and keep walking."

"It's my birthday; I'm supposed to be in charge."

"I'm the adult, Tom. I'm in charge. Now, just be quiet. You'll like it."

"But we're in…where are we even? We're in the middle of nowhere!."

"Tom." Harry's voice held a warning that the younger man recognized at once and heeded.

"Sorry, Harry."

"Now, I promise you'll like it, so c'mon."

Tom nodded and followed the older man through the area before coming to…park where a bunch of Tom's associates from school were, the few half-bloods and muggleborns he associated with, and Minerva. Arcturus was there too, with Dolohov and Parkinson. Harry smiled at them all before every met in a group. There were the seven children and Harry.

All the teens looked awkward as they looked around listlessly. Harry was confident that they'd be having fun soon enough though.

"Okay everyone! To celebrate Tom's birthday, I thought we'd play a game."

"What are we? Five?" He heard someone mutter. He ignored them to continue.

"I've got with me some play wants, but I've amply named them paint wands. Four of them shoot out red paint in the form of balls and the other four shoot out blue paint. They're triggered by a whip like motion, like this," Harry demonstrated, a tree to the side of them was splattered with a bit of blue paint. "We play in teams, four on four; obviously the one who gets pelted the most with paint loses."

"How long do we have?" One of the teen's asked.

"All day, of course. Or until Tom decides he's had enough." Harry replied with a smile. Tom was staring at him in a slight awe, but he also had a calculating look; like he was planning on how he could get the advantage.

Harry knew he'd cheat, Tom knew he'd let him.

Harry sighed to himself as he riled the children up before taking off through the park to find a good tactical point to camp. Harry grinned as he took off. Tom was on his team, and the two of them took off up a hill as they heard the other teens' feet squash mud and crack sticks in the open, quiet clearing.

The two looked at each other, grinning slightly. Silent messages sent and received as Tom put his back to Harry's and the two stalked off through a closed in area of bushed and trees. A blue wand was approaching from around some bushes, their shadow leading them from the sun behind them. Harry crouched down with Tom and as soon as Minerva cleared the bushes, the two took her out before high-fiving and taking off in laughter.

It was muddy, it was wet, it was rough. It was obvious the crowd was having fun though, and Tom thought that maybe Harry knew him a little better than he thought.

"That was pretty descent, considering how ridiculous it sounded when Professor Potter explained it. I wonder who invented it. He said he named the wands, did he make them too? Did he make them for this specific game, he made up?" Parkinson asked nosily.

"I wonder if we can play this back at Hogwarts, or figure out how to make the play wands if Professor Potter takes them away. I wonder how much detention we'd get if we got caught. They'd think it was vandalism!" One of the Slytherin's said with a laugh.

"I think we'd have to setup a room, specifically for it so the teachers didn't have a fit when they showed up to a red and blue hall at breakfast." Tom replied to the other boys dryly, knowing that wouldn't fly with Harry. At all.

"That wasn't so bad, Riddle, maybe Professor Potter isn't all that bad after all."

"Yeah, passable for someone who treats the Gryffindors and Slytherins the same. I think I'm going to be sore tomorrow, Arcturus hit me close up and I have a bruise the size of his fist on my arm from the paintball."

"Not sorry at all, you got me in the head; it's going to take forever to wash this out."

Tom watched as all of the people around him laughed, getting along, Ravenclaws, Slytherins and Gryffindors alike, and he was smack dab in the middle. People were breaching the house differences to befriend other people based on who he associated with. He was breaking down decades of house separation. Especially, between Gryffindor and Slytherin, but Minerva was smart and he had no problem at all hanging out around her, showing her respect, and he thought his Slytherins should do the same.

It had been less than a year since he'd let the Slytherins know he could speak parseltongue, less than a year since Roiser had set up that failure of an ambush. He'd made great progress since then, and he really did owe some tribute to Rosier, though he'd only let the boy know in the most humiliating way possible.

That encounter had spread like wildfire through the school soon after it'd happened. He suspected that Arcturus had said something, but Black denied it continuously. Well, after the annoyance he had of his business always ending up spread throughout Hogwarts, he was kind of smug about the type of attention it got him. Dark Families respected and befriended him from all houses, the neutrals interacted with him daily, he supposed it was to gain his favor in case they needed any help fending off the Darker families, considering the whole school could tell something had changed in the Slytherin Hierarchy.

Apparently, now, Tom was on top. He liked it, a lot.

So did everyone else, though, it seemed. People considered him to be nice, charming, and handsome. He'd heard merciful too, when he'd stopped some of Arcturus' friends from attacking Rosier.

If a little mercy to a waste of space gave him respect and adoration, he didn't mind so much. Rosier wasn't a threat. Not a big one anyway, not by himself, and anyone stupid enough to follow him after the attack wasn't a threat to Tom.

Playing Arcturus and the others was easy though, and he thought that as much as Arcturus boasted about being his closest friend, he'd recognize his actions for the manipulations they were, but obviously, Arcturus didn't know Tom like he thought he did.

Harry, on the other hand, saw everything Tom was doing, and it infuriated the younger boy on how much amusement Harry got from Tom playing the school so easily. Just when he thought he'd gotten away with something, finally, without Harry knowing anything! The older boy would just drop a hint, or say something so defined; Tom just knew that Harry knew. It was like he couldn't hide anything from the man. It was infuriating, but he loved the fact that Harry paid so much attention to him.

* * *

He watched Harry from across the room, the man was shifting through papers, letters it looked like, he looked thoughtful, but Tom could tell he wasn't thinking at all, only staring down at the papers listlessly.

"Its bed time soon," He interrupted quietly.

"Yeah, you go ahead, I don't want you to stay up for me, I'll go to bed within the hour, alright?"

"Okay, night, Harry," Tom said, moving across the room to give the older man a hug. He disappeared into his room a few moments later.

Harry turned his attentions back to the papers in his hands. There were numerous letters, all from Gellert. Gellert Grindelwald. The most recent on top, and a newer one off to the side on his desk, unopened. He read through the one on top again, since Tom was in his room.

_Good Goddess, Green-eyes, I haven't had such a good laugh in so long. Your charge sent me two beat up boys, with high praise from my friends. I recommend he be wary, not reckless. Though, it is amazing he was able to impress Marco, Isobel and Diane. They like to play their games just like anyone else, but their words or praise always go with high confidence. They said he was quick, precise, ruthless. _

_Perhaps, however, he was quick, determined to prove himself, and reads far too many dark arts books that don't explain their curses enough. A long, diagonal incision from hip to shoulder. It could have killed him, if left untreated for long. I wonder if your charge knew that. I wonder if you know that. I've never seen a spell do that, did you teach him how to cast it? I'm curious as to this magic. _

_Either way, you have a hand full with him I see. He's a prodigy unlike anything, or so I've heard so far. There have also been the rumors traveling like patronuses, that he speaks parseltongue. A powerful dark wizard in the making, I say, should I be worried?_

_With all amusement,_

_Gellert_

He turned to the unopened one, wondering what the man had to say on the matter only a few days later.

_Green-eyes,_

_You've obviously come to the ideal conclusion that your charge wishes, or is at least curious, to join my ranks. I have no wish to upset you, so whether he joins or not, is entirely up to you. It's not him I want. _

_. I wish to see you. Perhaps, dinner at Solari, Friday night at eight? I await your reply, Harry. It has been too long. _

_Gellert_

Harry's heart rate was far too high for his preference, but as he stared down at the letter in his hands, he was very glad Tom was already asleep. The look of apprehension and slight fear on his face would have sent alarm bells off in the younger man's head. That wasn't something Harry wanted.

He stared back down at the letter, reading Grindelwald's elegant script as the man invited him to a dinner at a restaurant he'd only ever heard of before on Friday, later in the evening.

To decline was automatically targeting both Tom and him. He didn't want that. To accept though, might be far worse. He didn't want to lead the wizard on, and he surely didn't want to get involved with the darker part of this tie, especially since he was trying to lead Tom away from that path, no matter what Grindelwald said. Not pave one to Tom for the older man.

He fiddled with his quill, tracing it along his lips as he thought up a reply to the man's obviously robust invitation to sex and power.

_Dear Lord Grindelwald,_

_I'm not sure I've ever been where you would like to take me for dinner. Is it possible to meet elsewhere so I don't get lost on the way? I hope to hear for you soon._

_Harry Potter_

He scrunched his nose at the ineloquent words before folding the parcel and stamping it closed before calling Tom's owl over to him. He let the letter go with a sinking stomach. His life just became much harder than it needed to be. Between teaching, grading and dealing with Tom, he had no idea where he was going to get the strength to hold up a face to both Grindelwald, Tom, and then the Hogwarts population as a whole.

The ones he was acting on now were bad enough. He was going to lose himself in the faces he showed the public if he didn't settle on himself soon. He sighed before standing from his desk, leaving most of that day's homework ungraded as he made his way to Tom's room. He peeked it, watching the young man sleep for a few minutes before he entered, closing the door behind him as he laid down with the younger man, smiling when Tom wrapped himself around the older man. He felt the worries and apprehensions for the future fade as he fell asleep with his hands clenching the boy's pajamas and his face buried in Tom's neck.

He awoke the next morning to a loud noise, one he realized the entrance to their rooms made when enough force was behind closing the door. He blinked a few times, waiting for his vision to clear as his glasses settled on his nose. He realized he was in Tom's rooms and cursed himself shortly after for curling up with the younger man. He didn't need nor want Tom as a crutch. If anything the boy needed him, not the other way around. He cursed again though as he realized it was Thursday, which meant tomorrow he would have his ill-fated dinner with Lord Grindelwald tomorrow evening.

He thought of what to tell Tom, because he obviously couldn't tell the boy the truth. It would be too double standard, especially when Tom would become possessive of him.

He thankfully made it through the day, even though he looked at the clock constantly, and dreaded the passing and ending of his classes; he made it to the end of the day without letting his nerves get the best of him. After dinner, he set his mind away from stray thoughts by focusing on grading all the work he was slowly letting build up, after a few hours, which ceased to be a distraction. He took a shower and finally went to bed, though he didn't sleep. About three hours after he lay down he realized that he'd ignored Tom all day.

He felt the sinking in his stomach for an entirely different reason as he felt his heart beat painfully. It was another hour and a half, now two in the morning when his door opened slowly. He recognized the magic as Tom's and closed his eyes, pretending to be sleep. The boy paused beside his bed for a few moments before softly lying down, setting his head on Harry's shoulder and resting his hand on the older man's beating heart. Harry forgot he was pretending to sleep as he wrapped an arm around the boy and Morpheus took hold of him.

As he was getting ready the following night, he was numbly aware of how fast time was going... well how warped his perception of time was, actually. He was anxious and nervous, but certainly not eager. Even though he knew he'd have to speak with Tom before leaving, he didn't realize how badly the speaking part would go.

"Harry? Where are you going?"

"Er - out?"

"Really, where are we going?"

"I'm going out, you're staying here."

"Why?"

"Because this has nothing to do with you?" Harry asked lightly. He saw the young man's temper flare and knew he needed to leave before tom didn't let him. He pushed past the younger man and made his way into their study, slamming the door closed behind him, giving himself enough time to floo away without Tom knowing where he was going.

It wasn't all that obscure though. He landed in the Hog's Head and felt arms wrap around him before the person was partially stunned, he looked up to see blonde hair and immediately flushed as he realized he's stunned the Dark Lord. As he canceled the spell he stammered out an apology that had the man in front of him chuckling, his eyes lighting up in mischief as he pulled Harry to his side and nuzzled the shorter man's neck.

"Very good," he purred before he led them from the bar.

Harry continued to blush, holding onto the man as he walked them out of the pub and towards a dark alley. His guard immediately went up but Gellert did nothing more than step into the shadows and wrap his arms around Harry's thin waist. Then, they were gone and Harry gripped the body holding him as the nausea from apparating took hold of him.

The arms around him continued to surround him, even when they were both standing on the ground, standing in front of their destination. Harry was suddenly struck with the intimateness of their position, and he pulled away, smiling at the older man before he grabbed hold of Gellert's hand and led the man into the restaurant. Not a word was spoken as the host took one look at them before leading them to their seats in a secluded area with low lights and softly playing music. Grindelwald pulled out his chair and Harry sat, watching as the other man sat down with a grace and sense of power Harry had never seen before.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Harry fidgeting minutely as Gellert stared him over, sizing him up and licking his lips lightly as he did so.

"So what do you do?" The older man asked, completely throwing Harry off.

"Oh, I'm a teacher at Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts? Really. What do you teach?"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts, and I tutor Tom in whatever he needs help in."

"Mr. Riddle seems like a very smart man, I couldn't imagine him having trouble with the Hogwarts curriculum."

"Oh, no, never. I couldn't see him having a problem with it either. It's usually just blood magic, warding, or dark arts that he can't find enough information on. Since that's my area of expertise, he usually just drills me until he's satisfied with the amount of information he has. Then he moves to a different subject."

The man's eyes were alight with something Harry didn't want to identify as a waiter brought them both a flute of wine.

"How is it teaching with Albus?"

"Eh, Dumbledore is...Dumbledore; he's annoying and he thinks he knows what's right for everyone. We don't get on well. Especially, since I've adopted Tom."

"Speaking of, why did you adopt him?" Gellert asked, his tone inquisitive but greedy.

Harry reached out to grab his flute, twirling the liquid in the crystal as he thought. "Tom...has great potential. However much I am indifferent to muggles, the ones he was with were horrid, and a descendant of a founder shouldn't be left to waste in a muggle orphanage."

"Decedent of a founder?"

"Oh, his mother was Merope Gaunt; they were the last living relatives to the Slytherin line."

"He's a half-blood?" Gellert questioned, sounding slightly repulsed.

"As am I." Harry spoke definitely, "we have had very similar childhoods, I won't let anyone harm him now that I've taken him away from that type of life."

"A half-blood Potter?"

"Illegitimate Potter." Harry lied easily, and he could tell the man couldn't even tell. Perhaps, maybe he could, but was after something he thought more important than the truth.

"I see. What type of life is that?"

"One where magic is condemned and the child beaten and starved for existing."

"Who hurt you?"

"It doesn't matter now, they're dead."

"How?" Gellert asked idly, sipping on his off his own flute.

Harry looked the man in the eye as he answered, making sure he had the man's attention. "I killed them."

"I see," The man murmured.

"Maybe you do," Harry whispered quietly, setting his flute down as he stared at his hands as they lay in his lap.

"What did they do to you?" Gellert asked quietly.

"They tortured me, only to have someone heal me a few days after. It was a cycle that got boring very quickly, until I started taunting them. Creativity dies down after a while, it just gave me another incentive in the end though."

"What kind of torture was it?" The older man asked. Harry suddenly wondered how it'd come to this topic of discussion.

"Every kind, I suppose. They killed my brothers and sisters, mentors and fathers in front of me. They broke the bones in my body, the skin on my bones." _Hermione, Ron, Tonks, Fred, Sirius, Remus, Dumbledore, Mum, Dad… _

"Never your mind, though," Gellert spoke knowingly.

"No. They could never break my mind. Not through torture nor legilimens."

"You seem to be a smart young man,"

"I am...weathered, and profoundly lucky."

"You don't feel lucky."

"Oh…how do I feel then?" Harry asked quizzically.

"As I've said before: Powerful. It's…enticing." The man murmured.

It seemed that Grindlewald had planned out not only where they would eat but also what they would be eating. It wasn't a few moments later when the waiter who'd brought their drinks arrived with a tray balanced on his shoulder, laden with food. The smells lingered into the open room, and Harry took a deep breath to enjoy the smell as their food was set in front of them. The waiter left without a word.

Little did Harry know that this was the beginning of everything that would decide whether or not Tom would become Voldemort. Not because Grindelwald found him to be a worthy addition to his ranks, but because he was useful in luring Harry to him.


	16. Chapter 16

**For the lovely Pain au Chocolat. : D**

He was having a really nice Monday morning, a very nice, quiet morning, a perfect afternoon, and classes were now close to getting out. It was almost amazing how smoothly the day had went, considering Mondays were usually his worst day, especially ones where he gave out exams, but Harry knew by the end of lunch that they weren't going to continue on being pleasant. He'd seen Abraxas heading out of the staff room just as lunch had ended and he tried to figure out ways to avoid the older man as he idly passed out quizzes to his Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff classes.

He was just on his way back to his and Tom's rooms, tired from the first work day of the week. He really didn't understand what he found in teaching; he honestly didn't enjoy the aftermath of teaching a class. He liked the teaching part, but the tests, the homework. Once he got it back from the students, it was like he was back in school, doing homework.

He was just stretching his arms over his head with a groan when he felt a spell slam into his back. He groaned as he fell to the floor, passing out.

He awoke to a darkly lit room that smelled spicy, almost acidic.

Automatically the feeling and disorientation unburied memories from 'Voldemort's time.' He tensed, scoping his surroundings, taking note of his body position and restraints. He felt the ropes on his wrists, amaturely tied, he could tell. The soft bed beneath him threw his alert even higher.

He fiddled with the ropes, easily untying himself. He froze, however, when he heard a door open. He kept his hands behind his back. Abraxas entered the room and Harry felt his blood run cold. He pulled himself out of his current mentality, shifting to one he used when he was surrounded or captured by Death Eaters. Abraxas looked slightly unsettled as he looked at the boy.

"You'll regret turning me down. I told you that the first time. The second time, I was indisposed, but now, now you're going to regret choosing that little...half-blood over me. Whether you're fucking him or not, I really don't care. No one ignores the attentions of a Malfoy." Even though he hesitated slightly, Abraxas didn't stop moving towards the bed. It was then that Harry realized the man was holding a small vile. Harry prepared himself for a struggle.

Abraxas downed the potion though before he moved to cover Harry's body with his own. Harry, waiting for the right moment to overpower the blonde man, allowed Abraxas to kiss him, even though the thought alone had him resisting the urge to gag. Let alone the action. He choked though as he felt Abraxas push something into his mouth, holding his nose closed and making him swallow to be able to breathe again.

Harry swallowed and regretted it even as it was happening. Abraxas was smirking down at him, a smug sense of victory radiating off him.

"Even if you hate it, you'll enjoy it. How very ironic, just like how you did me."

Harry had a dawning realization as the potion began to work, horror flooding his mind as arousal flooded his body. A bloody lust potion.

Abraxas was hitting below the belt, literally; lowering his inhibitions just so he could sleep better at night and get what he wanted. Harry tried to resist, tears of frustration gathering in his eyes as he fought against the man's touch mentally, his body reacting to the physical stimulation

Once he finally got a small hold on his panic, and ignored what was happening to his body he realized two things simultaneously. One, he needed to get away, now. Two, if Tom found out about this, and Harry had no doubt he would, Abraxas was going to die.

Realizing Abraxas didn't know his hands were untied, Harry used this to his advantage, as it was supposed to be, once he realized Abraxas was lost in his lust, he brought one of his fists soaring to Abraxas's temples. Enjoying the sickening break he heard as he shattered bone. The blonde man looked immediately disoriented as his eyes rolled untamed in their sockets and his face froze slightly. He blinked and Harry could tell he wouldn't have much longer.

He pushed the man off him and almost tripped into the floor as he jumped off the bed, trying to run and jump all at once. He screamed out as he felt the only other person in the room tackle him to the hard stone floor. He felt his elbow snap and cried out in pain as his body was smashed against the stone beneath him. Abraxas was muttering beneath him as his hands violated Harry.

His trousers were being pulled down and hands were pulling his cheeks apart as the man's upper body held Harry's own to the ground. Even though his body was reacting favorably to the touches, Harry knew what he wanted. He was also stubborn, dangerously so. Mind over matter, he chanted in his head as he kicked back with his legs. Taking off as soon as he heard the older man let out a pained sound.

He made it much further this time. Knowing he'd injured the older man, he wasted no time making his way to his rooms. He moaned and groaned at the same time. Pain lighting up his body but arousal being forced on his senses.

He almost barrel rolled through the portrait entrance as it opened for him. He saw Tom stand immediately as he entered, the young man jumping over the back of the couch to reach him more quickly.

Tom noticed the things Harry hadn't had the coherency to care about as the older man buried his face against his neck. His body shuddering in arousal as Harry made pitiful sounds. His whimpers and helpless moans doing nothing to calm Tom.

Harry was dressed in a button down shirt. He had marks on his legs that were bleeding, he was barefoot and part of his face was black and blue as his arm hung at an odd angle from the elbow down.

His anger was slightly smothered as he felt the panting, warm breaths against his neck as Harry clung to him. The older man worked into a frenzy as he began to nuzzle and suck on Tom's neck, whimpering as he did, pressing himself as close to the younger man as possible. Usually the one to initiate it, and not used to the amount of fever Harry was displaying, Tom drew a blank. He stood there nervous and anxious as Harry began to thrust again him.

"Tom...please...need...neeed...it so bad...lust potion...Got away...Abraxas...it was him...please, Tom...Touch me...make his memory go 'way."

Tom saw red as the deadliness he was known for in Harry's future set in. One thing flashed through his mind, something he would do no matter what. Abraxas Malfoy was a dead man. He began to murmur softly, pulling Harry with him to their bedroom, taming his wild emotions until a time he could act on them.

Harry's need was almost scary in its intensity as Tom pushed the older man back against the bed. He pushed Harry's shirt up and off, sucking on one of Harry's nipples slightly as the elegant hands buried themselves in his hair and Harry arched off the bed.

He pinched the other with his fingers, nails digging into the sensitive flesh as Harry gave a loud shout, bucking up. Tom felt a twinge of shame flash through him as he realized how badly Harry was aroused. He lowered himself down Harry's body. Holding his hips firmly as he pulled the older man into his mouth.

Harry threw his head back and let out a howl Tom didn't think was entirely human. Tom sucked roughly, his teeth sliding against Harry every so often, his hands keeping Harry down against the bed just barely as the man went wild.

Tom reached towards the night stand, though, his attention divided as he reached for the dreamless sleep potion he knew Harry kept on hand. He dipped his fingers in it, before trailing to Harry's mouth, forcing his fingers past Harry's lips. A shot of arousal slamming into his body when the older man began to suck on his fingers.

Merlin.

Once he knew Harry had gotten most of the potion off Tom's fingers, the younger returned his full attention to the throbbing cock in his mouth, sucking harshly and pushing against Harry's bent leg when the older man pulled his hair and arousal shot through his body again that had his body quivering with the intensity.

Harry was getting louder and louder with each passing moment, and as the older man pulled his hair roughly, Tom found he enjoyed it, immensely and wouldn't let Harry apologize for it when he was finally in his right mind. It was a few short minutes later when Harry exploded without warning, his cries dying down as Tom swallowed the bitter liquid before wiping his mouth and sitting up. He looked down at Harry to see the man out cold from his orgasm and the sleeping potion.

Tom watched Harry as he stood from the bed, thinking his plan over in his head. A killing curse was too merciful and Cruciatus would get him expelled. He grinned; Abraxas was physically bigger than Harry, but not Tom. Then fire. Lots and lots of fire. He trailed a hand across Harry's sleeping face and felt his ire rise as his Harry flinched from the touch. He steeled his resolved and left their rooms.

*^*^HP/TR^*^*

Abraxas's rooms were so very easy to enter, considering he had a snake as his portrait door. No one would know it was him either, considering the disillusionment charm he'd cast before he left his Harry's rooms.

The man was swearing as he paced. He never heard or saw Tom coming until he was staring up at the younger man. His knees smarting from being kicked in. "So the half-blood has come to defend his bitch. How disgustingly romantic."

"Lying on the ground, you really should watch what you say." Tom answered as he brought his leg back and delivered a brutal kick to the man's side; smiling, satisfied as he heard the man's ribs crack. Abraxas began panting with the next blow. By the time Tom was panting from exertion, Abraxas was coughing up blood.

"Maybe you didn't get the hint the first few times, but it doesn't matter now. No need to warn the dead." Tom said before drawing his wand. "_Inflammero_." he murmured, pointing towards Abraxas, relishing his cries as he aimed a few more around the area, in case one went out before he turned and left.

*^*^HP/TR^*^*

He arrived back at their rooms, pulling out some healing salve from the bathroom, and ignoring the screams he could hear outside of their rooms. A self satisfied smirk over taking his features as he made his way to Harry's room.

He pulled Harry's shirt off and took it with him to the bathroom, throwing the destroyed shirt into the trash bin before grabbing a rag from the cabinet in the bathroom. He summoned a bowl to him and filled it with warm water and an antiseptic potion to rub Harry down with.

His anger towards Abraxas grew as he washed the older man off, rubbing the healing salve across areas of his body as he washed them off, but he was euphoric that'd he'd had the pleasure to give the man his just desserts. Knocked down by a boy who was less than half his age, one he hadn't thought was an obstacle. Tom didn't even think he wife would miss the Blonde haired man.

He set the bowl aside and pulled the blankets up, curling against Harry and closing his eyes contently. Harry would wake up tomorrow sore but fine, and Abraxas wouldn't be bothering him ever again. Hopefully, Harry learned from this. He shuffled closer, wrapping his arm around the older boy's waist and getting comfortable, sighing happily with Harry's body heat and the comfort he took from hearing his breath woosh in and out.

*^*^HP/TR^*^*

"Good morning," Tom murmured quietly when he opened to see Harry staring at him.

"Morning,"

"You feeling all right?"

"A little sore from the struggle, and tired, really tired."

There was silence after that and Tom could tell Harry was really trying to articulate himself, and after about half an hour of the fidgety silence from Harry, Tom finally opened his mouth.

"What is it?"

"What?"

"What are you thinking that's making you fidget, I know you, what's on your mind?"

"Well, last night. I guess I was surprised that you didn't…do what I'd asked you."

There was a few minutes of quiet after that as Tom tried to think of how he wanted to answer back to that, once he was ready, he spoke, "Well, I have more respect for you than that, unlike some people we knew. You told me you wanted to wait. So we're waiting, yeah? I can't break your trust like that, when you're that…deranged," Tom answered.

"Knew?"

"You know me better than that, Harry,"

"Yes, I hope you don't get caught, that'd be really bad. You only have a year left."

"I'm smarter than that, and he deserved it. He tried to rape you, Harry, you can't sympathize with him. I told you he was rotten from the beginning."

"If you're friends find out you did it, you're going to have a really hard time travelling with that crowd."

"They won't find out, Harry, no one's going to find out. No one at all. Now don't worry about it, do you want me to get you a pain potion out of the bathroom?"

"Yeah, I think that'd be best if I plan on getting out of bed today and pulling off a normal appearance. Don't want to let anyone think my state has anything to do with Abraxas'."

Harry closed his eyes when one of Tom's hands trailed across his face and up into his hair, rubbing his scalp softly as the younger boy leaned forward to kiss him slowly, softly, and Harry's heart flutter, trust and warmth infusing him. Pushing away feelings from last night, and any dark doubts that had lingered in his mind. He was comfortable around Tom; nothing was going to change that.

*^*^HP/TR^*^*

It was only one, quiet, low lit meeting. The intensity of Gellert's attention seemed to shine through; however, with a frightfulness that Harry could rarely remember feeling. The man was focused on him, obsessed, almost as the Dark Lord had been in his time, but at least then Voldemort had wanted to kill him. Not…molest him. Harry shook the thoughts out of his head as he sat at his desk, watching his class read quietly, too with thinking over his meeting with Gellert to teach much.

Sure, all they'd done was talk, but Gellert was definitely feeling out Harry's weaknesses, especially when it came to Tom, and Harry knew the man would use Tom to get to him, if Harry ever turned the older man down. Tom could handle himself though, no matter his interference, Tom Riddle had always been a genius and now was no different.

Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair as he looked at the clock he had set up on the far wall. Counting down the minutes until the end of his day, where he could sit on his couch, in his private rooms and brood in solitude until Tom arrived for dinner.

The younger man had taken off this morning, obviously still put out that Harry had gone out the night before; Tom probably thought it had been with an attachment similar to Abraxas, but seriously, Tom went off and did his thing plenty of times. Harry rarely, if at all, said anything unless he was trying to teach the younger boy a lesson. Harry does it once, and the younger man throws a small fit. At least internally. Harry could definitely tell. He got a certain, adorably poutish look. One that he tried to hide, but after the years they'd been together, Harry could read Tom like an open book.

Time came and went and before long he was through with his classes and making his way to his private chambers, unbelieving that the day had flown by so quickly.

Gellert was a problem though, and Harry needed to stop interacting with him, and keep Tom from taking off after the man as well. It was all games and parlor tricks. The man was manipulative and charismatic, just like Dumbledore. Just like Tom would be, was now.

"Hey, Harry, can I spend the summer hols with Arcturus?" The question brought Harry from his reverie and he looked at Tom confused for a slight moment.

"Why?"

"He just wanted me to meet a few people that were coming over this summer, and he was going to help me get contacts in the Ministry."

"These…people, wouldn't happen to be…Grindelwald's followers."

There was a long moment of silence, Tom's face showing his displeasure of being found out again. "Can I keep nothing from you, Harry?"

"I don't know. Is there something I should know? Something you don't want me to know?"

"No. Everything's fine. It's just some of his friends. No trouble."

"It sounds like a life of grandeur now, Tom, but people don't always work their way to the top. Are you positive that's what you want? To be at someone's beck and call for the rest of your life until either they or you are killed?"

"It won't happen like that. Every one of the people I've met has basically treated me like royalty."

"It's because you have something they want. Once they get it, you will be of little significance because you've already been trapped. Please, consider. Do not get swept up with friends and their decisions. Make your own. Can't you do better than gain fame through a Dark Lord? Can you not create your own infamy?"

"How do you know that's my decision already? Don't you have any trust in me?"

"Arcturus has a lot of weight on your decisions, Tom. He's been your only friend for years now. I know you weigh his words. I know you're letting the Slytherins' attention go to your head now that they look at you as an heir. Just because they all believe you'd do well on that path doesn't mean it's for you."

"It is my path, I know what I'm doing, Harry. You said you'd support me no matter what, what's so different now!" Tom snarled, impatient, furious and hurt that he could never keep something to himself from this man. This man he loved so much and wanted approval from. "I'm only trying to better myself."

"They don't want you! They want me! They're using you, Tom, so easily and you don't even recognize it. The boy I raised and know wouldn't need anyone to lift him off the ground. He'd do it himself and make it look easy. You won't get anywhere borrowing everyone else's power. No matter how special you think you are, if you join them, you'll just be pushed back into normalcy." Harry shouted. He realized they weren't the right words to say, but he had to tell Tom the truth. He couldn't let him walk into that world without knowing what was coming. It wasn't fair. The words were hurtful but true and Tom would learn his lesson one way or another.

"You're wrong." Tom whispered. His voice was cold and cruel. Cut off, emotionless. Harry knew he'd drawn a line and crossed it as the boy turned away from him. He reached out a hand and his school back landed in his palm. "I'll prove to you that you're wrong. There's nothing special about you, Harry. Nothing at all. You're just a teacher who took in an orphan. Well, now, I'm ready to move on. You're wrong, they want me," Tom whispered to himself as he left the room.

Harry had a feeling he wasn't going to see the boy for a while.

*^*^HP/TR^*^*

Was this it? Had he lost Tom over one bad decision? Over Tom's want to be accepted and powerful? Had Harry shoved his own foot in his mouth? Was this type of pain worth it?

His heart ached and he felt physically sick with the worry, wondering if Tom had already made a choice that had no way of being unmade, or if he was biding his time for when it would be the most profitable to him. All he knew was after so many years, things like this shouldn't matter. He knew what Tom would become one day, or knew what he would become before Harry showed up. How could he be surprised? Maybe he wasn't. Maybe he was just upset that Tom had chosen them over Harry.

He didn't know how right he'd been though. The next day at Breakfast in the Great Hall he didn't see Arcturus or Tom, thinking they were just being scornful towards him, he let it go for the time being.

Days came and went though, weeks went by, and none of the other teachers could explain the two's disappearance either. Harry knew, but he couldn't admit what had happened, couldn't rat Tom or his friend out as supporters of the rising Dark Lord.

He didn't have to fake his worry though, wondering what Tom had gotten himself into, or what Arcturus had gotten him into. The two weren't smart when they were together, especially when Arcturus tried to get Tom to do something. The younger boy had a soft spot for the Black and rarely refused him.

It wasn't until he received a letter from Lord Grindlewald a week or so before school let out that it all seemed to fall into place for him.

_Green Eyes,_

_I'm throwing a ball on June 21__st__, would I be in err to invite you? I hope not, and I hope you do show, perhaps you'll get to say hello to your charge. Or have you two been quarreling? Did you not warn him of what was to happen, or is he perhaps that stubborn?_

_Just like his warden I suppose._

_I hope to see you there._

_G. _

He honestly couldn't understand why he hadn't seen it before; Tom was by nature dark. Without Harry, where would he have gone the first time around? To someone who could promise him the world on a silver, Slytherin platter for the use of his powers in return. Maybe it was only that easy for Harry to understand because he knew Tom, maybe he knew because that's what Severus had done when Lily had out casted him. Maybe, it was because if Harry was in Tom's position, he may have done the same. Either way, he was glad he had a lead. Now all he needed were dress robes.

He didn't want to 'storm the castle and bring back the damsel in distress,' though, he wanted Tom to come willingly and understand Harry wasn't punishing him or dragging him off because he didn't approve of Tom's decision. He never wanted to coerce Tom into something. That's how bad things happened, that's also how Dumbledore had operated and Harry had hated it when he'd had it done to him.

That's how he spent the next few days though, worrying and thinking things through so many times he was sure he could repeat what he was going to say or do in his sleep, or someone could get lost in his mind if they were to use Legilimens on him. He was nervous, very anxious, and most of all he had that small doubt that Tom wouldn't come back.

So as he adjusted his robes, and finished tying back his hair he reassessed his situation before taking a deep, calming breath and letting it out in a huge whoosh of air. Odd as it sounded, Voldemort was easy compared to this. If Voldemort had gotten some of his ideas from Grindlewald and even Dumbledore had defeating him at his peak, where did that leave Harry? He patted himself down, making sure he had his wand before he put out the lights and left.

He'd known there were a lot of Dark families in his time, but he hadn't realized how many had died out in the first war, and then the second with Voldemort before Harry had destroyed him as a baby. The building they were in was huge, and people were everywhere and not just a few here and there. There were crowds of people everywhere, laughing and talking, creating new social connections while stroking the fires of old ones. Harry made his way through the entrance hall though, and into the main ballroom where the noise was the loudest. He surveyed the room before making his way down the steps.

It wasn't very hard to spot Tom. He was surrounded by some of the most decadent people there. He had one young woman hanging on his arm as another swooned towards him as he spoke. Others were looking on in envy, their gazes lustful and possessive. Harry felt the fire in him roar to life as he made his way down the steps. He maneuvered around the dance floor, completely disregarding the elegant dancers as he made his way toward Tom.

A few people noticed him before Tom did. Their gazes were heavy and uncomfortable, like something was crawling on his skin. He ignored it in favor of Tom. His eyes meeting the younger man's as Tom looked at him in surprise. Well, that's what Harry saw, and Harry knew Tom a lot better than most, if not all, of these people.

Tom was, unsurprisingly dressed in Slytherin colors, his robes elegant, but spoke volumes of Tom's personality. They signified power and respect. Harry had no doubts that Tom received the respect he expected, demanded.

*^*^*Harry/Tom*^*^*

Tom saw Harry as he entered the room. He saw the way people turned to look, probably feeling Harry's power as it rolled off him and wondering where the sensual feeling had came from. People Tom hadn't even met yet turned towards the older boy, offering their greets, shaking hands. Harry just smiled and volleyed them away. His attention was focused else where, and Tom felt his stomach roll at the fact Harry was making his way towards him. Was ignoring all of these powerful, influential people to gain his attention, yet they all trailed behind him slightly, keeping their eyes on the unknown green-eyed man who had almost quieted the ball when he entered.

"Harry,"

"Tom."

"What are you doing here?"

"May I have this dance?" Harry asked, ignoring the teen's question before offering his hand. Tom didn't pause for a moment's hesitation as he pushed the woman off his side as he took Harry's hand; taking the lead as he gracefully lead them to the dance floor.

Tom was stalling taking in Harry's state of dress as they stopped on the dance floor to bow to one another before beginning.

"You look..."

"Lovely?" Harry offered, moving closer to Tom so he could rest his head on the teen's shoulder.

"You've going to be taller than me soon," Harry offered, "I already get mistaken for your brother, now it's going to get undeniably worse with you getting older."

"You don't look my brother to me. Just a very elegant and beautiful man."

"No need to sweet talk me, love."

"I'm not."

There was silence as the two continued to dance, unaware of the growing stares and gossip.

"I missed you so much, Tom. I was worried, so worried I've spent every day since you've left looking for you." Harry whispered softly, his voice cracking slightly as he held Tom tightly.

The younger man winced at Harry's strength.

"I'm sorry."

"You're not, but that's all right. I didn't come here to yell at you or force you to come back home. I came to tell you I'm sorry, Tom; but if you feel you need to run away because of me, then I've failed. I always want to be there for you. No matter what you decide to do with your life. If you want to join Grindlewald, please at least know you have a home with me. My words and actions were misplaced and they hurt you." Harry finished, turning his face to kiss Tom on the neck before pulling back to dance at a more appropriate distance. He could see Tom, though, and could read his face. Tom was coming home. Harry smiled so brightly he heard a few people gasp. Tom returned his smile just enough that Harry could see if before schooling his features.

They continued to dance for an amount of time they both couldn't gauge, too caught up in each other.

They were interrupted, though, and the entire ballroom had fallen silent.

"Excuse me, Riddle, but may I interrupt?" A blonde man asked. Tom recognized him at once however, and even though he didn't want to let Harry go, he bowed slightly and stepped away as he answered.

"Of course, Lord Grindlewald." Tom murmured, trying not to snap at the older, more powerful wizard.

Harry looked like he was being sent to his death as he sent Tom a fervent look before being swept back into dance on the floor, suddenly realizing why everyone was staring at the elegantly dressed man. Harry could feel Grindlewald's power flowing off him in large waves, and it caressed his skin in a way that left Harry feeling violated. He smiled charmingly up at the older man though, and danced with him closely.

"Good evening, I see you've graced me with your presence, beautiful." Grindlewald murmured. His voice seductive and low. Harry shivered slightly in disgust, but the older man took it for what he wanted it to be and pulled Harry closer, to the point their bodies touched completely. It was too intimate for Harry, far too much.

"It's been a few months; I thought I'd check up on you. Make sure you weren't sending my charge to the dragons." Harry murmured quietly, resting his head on the man's shoulder so he wouldn't have to stare at Gellert.

"Checking up on me? For Dumbledore you mean. I don't know how you can work with that man. You could be so much more here. You'd be with young Tom, too."

"I'd follow Tom anywhere, but I'm not quite sure he's so decided in his decisions as of yet. You'll be the first to know, though, I'm sure." Harry murmured.

Instead of putting the older man off, however, Harry's words seemed to pose a silent challenge to the older man as he gripped Harry more closely still and began to whisper things in his ear that had Harry cringing mentally in disgust, but also laughing. Promising him the world on a platter, all the power he could want.

After a few songs, the man was beckoned away by one of his followers as an emergency was occurring. Tom was on him again in seconds, pulling his body possessively close as he danced with Harry, his face buried against the older man's neck as he spoke. "So it's true, he…desires you."

"Yes, and he's knows how important you are to me. It wasn't hard to figure out after those few meetings in Diagon."

"He won't have you."

"He disgusts me."

"Good."

"Merlin, I couldn't even turn it down without everyone in the room becoming suspicious."

"I believe my goals have just become very similar to Dumbledore's."

"_I thought you hated him_." The conversation had lapsed into quiet parseltongue as the two continued to dance.

"_Yes, well, I hate Grindlewald more, the lesser of the two evils. Besides, you seem to get along just fine with Dumbledore_."

"_I used to know someone like him, a very long time ago_."

"_Do you think he'll be the one to take down Grindlewald?_"

"_Are you so jealous that'd you have him fall, Tom? That everything you've worked towards these past two years be ripped down before you__,__ over me?_"

"_Most definitely, Arcturus wanted me to fit in, to make connections with powerful families, something that purebloods have been practicing for hundreds of years. He didn't want me to be shunned for my blood because he liked me, but I don't need people like that to set me aside. My blood status won't inhibit me. Like you said when I was younger, I can do anything I want as long as I set my mind to it._"

"_Of course, do you see where you are now? You're probably the only other half blood here beside me__._"

"_Then, I suppose I'll be coming home and I'll have to talk to Dumbledore in the fall and let him know what I know._"

"_Do you know a lot then? Even though you haven't officially joined them yet? I mean, you haven't, have you?_"

"_No, I haven't. Arcturus has though, and he tells me everything I want to know, or he did. He won't now, once he finds out he's not so important to me anymore and that I've left all this behind._"

"_Do you mind leaving it all?"_

"_No, I wanted to fit in, during a time where we just couldn't connect. Abraxas was sticking his nose where it didn't belong and Arcturus treated me like god. It wasn't as real as what we have though, and I feel so very…awful for pushing you away. We always seem to bump heads one time or another."_

Harry only smiled before he pulled Tom into a hug as they swayed. "Let's go home, Tom Tom."

"I love when you say that," Tom said with a smile.

Harry forgot how long it'd been since he'd seen the boy smile. He realized he missed it.

*^*^*Harry/Tom*^*^*

Harry had chased him, chased him all the way into territory Tom knew the older boy didn't want to step foot into, especially because of Lord Grindlewald and his fascination with the green-eyed boy. Harry had that quiet power, the one that made everyone in the room notice him, notice him in a way that Tom craved. Craved so much that he'd gone out of his way to attain it, and almost lost himself in the process.

Harry was right, he was special. He was beyond special, he was a fucking prodigy and Tom knew it. By watching Grindlewald's followers though, he also knew that everyone else there had been special at one time or another, and now they were just there, working in the background with Lord Grindlewald's face at the front.

He'd almost given up Harry. He'd almost walked away from the one person in his life that literally just wanted to…love him? Even through all his faults and confusion, Harry had tracked him down and reaffirmed his promise of accepting Tom, no matter what. Tom couldn't for the life of him understand that type of loyalty, but he had it with Harry.

Harry accepted him, no matter what, no matter where he went, no matter what he did. People killed over that type of loyalty. Tom would kill for it. No one was going to touch his Harry, ever.


	17. Chapter 17

To the Lovely **Pain Au Chocolat** and **Elelith**.

I'm lazy, I know, sorry .. Also, life sucks.

* * *

"So, the entire summer to ourselves," Harry murmured

"Yeah, wonderful, right?

"Is there anything you want to do?"

Tom looked over at Harry, seeing the slight fidget and the flush rolling up from his neck and across his face.

"You don't have to have sex with me just because it's the summer and you want me to stick around. Are you sure you weren't in Slytherin, buying favors?" Tom snapped.

"Well.… I don't want to buy anything, but I really appreciated what you did the night Abraxas poisoned me with that lust potion, I feel, grateful and very thankful and euphoric that you would respect my boundaries. You're old enough now, I think, that your decision should matter indefinitely. There were things that you did when you were younger, that I recognized. Things that would lead to this, and I was afraid to come to this point. I just wanted to be with you. But I really can't resist it much longer. I love you, nothing is going to change that, and if you-"

But he was cut off, because Tom reached over and pulled the older man over him, kissing him fiercely, running his hands through Harry's hair and sighing in contentment. That was all the consent Harry needed, because in the next moment, he was devouring Tom. Devouring the younger boy with such a fever that all Tom could do was relax against the couch and breathe, because Harry was there; in front of him, literally sucking the air out of his lungs as he bit and pulled and licked Tom's battered lips.

Harry pushed them to the side, his hands trailing up Tom's shirt, his lips and tongue and teeth making a path across Tom's face and then to his neck, harsh, horrible bites followed by warm, soothing touches of Harry's tongue as the shirt Tom had been wearing suddenly made its way over the younger boy's head, Harry's mouth there one moment and back the next as he barely took a breather.

Assaulting the younger man as he left marks and bruises on his neck, forcing blood to the skin, knowing no one would be able to track him down for this, no one here, no one in the muggle world would suspect him, not now, not ever. It was only Dumbledore now, but if Dumbledore knew better, he'd know to stay out of the way.

But those were thoughts for another time, and Harry keened when he heard the sinful sounds come from Tom's mouth. The pants, the gasps, the whines, the moans, the groans, everything he couldn't have had while at Hogwarts. Not in this time, not when Tom when was so young, but everything that brat Arcturus took advantage of, and damn if Harry wasn't jealous.

He ground down against the younger, blue eyed boy, swallowing the shout that came with the pleasure, Pleasure he had inflicted on the future dark lord, his future dark lord, the one who held so much power at his command. His little Tom Tom, all his. Harry kissed his way back up the boy's throat, biting and soothing, biting and soothing as he trailed his tongue in a line with his lips. His hands rolling Tom's nipples as they peaked under the pressure.

Tom. Tom could feel it all, but he couldn't. Arcturus had been...enthusiastic, but this. He couldn't explain this. This was ownership. This was possessing someone, while playing their body like a fined tuned instrument. Tom couldn't tell up from down, the bed from the ceiling, or even if he was laying still. It was something Tom had felt before, like Harry was staking a claim on him, finally sealing his ownership over Tom. The ownership he'd gained the day Harry had pulled Tom out of the orphanage, and never thought to leave the younger man again. Tom knew the claim would stick, wanted it to stick, above all else this was what he'd wanted for years now..

He could feel Harry's hands on him. Could feel the sharp hits of pain as the man bit him, where ever he chose, because really, when could he deny his Harry. Then he felt the soothing of that sinful tongue, and he felt like he was floating on water. Woosh. Whossh whossh. Harry made his head spin, made his breathing hard to control, and his cock harder than he ever remembered it being, so hard it was hard to decide which was more important, relief or breathing, but then, holy fucking hell, then, Harry rolled his hips and Tom swore his vision blacked out. His breathe caught and he wondered for a second if he'd ever be able to breathe again.

Then, it happened again and again and Tom realized he was singing, and perhaps a litany would be a better description. A litany of Harry's name and Oh God's, and fucks as the older boy grinded against him. His mouth still on Tom's neck, well any part of Tom's body he could reach. His chest, his nipples his stomach, and then Harry was moving down his body, moving with the intent. An intent that Tom didn't recognize because he was usually the one exhibiting it.

Harry was warm though, warmer than Tom had ever felt him, and it turned him on beyond what he could imagine. Harry was on top of him, pushing against him, hot sweaty, sexy as fuck and all his. No one else, not Abraxas, and certainly not Lord Fucking Grindlewald would ever have this. This was all Tom's and as he leaned up and pulled Harry into a kiss with a whimper from the older man, he knew it was true. Harry was his. There was no discretion about it. The man was loyal like that.

He kissed though; he kissed and bit back, running over Harry's bruised lips with his tongue, fighting for a dominance that would never exist between them, because really, they were like two sides of the same coin. One day, it would be one way, and well, depending on how the coin fell, the next day would differ. He trailed his hands along the green eye'd man sides, sliding his fingers into Harry' hair, gripping and releasing at his leisure, enjoying the mewling sounds, the older boy made when Tom pulled his hair, threaded it through his fingers and jerked, pulling Harry closer, trying to devour him, like Harry had devoured Tom, trying to own him, but Tom already knew that he was Harry's.

Harry's mouth left him though, and his fingers replaced those sinful lips, and for a moment, Tom wondered why, but his thoughts were swept away by thrusts, and sweat, and slickness and Harry rocked him back into the couch, one hand slinking down to wrap around his dick, slight touches, only enough to tease. And Tom thought it was going to kill him as he tried to meet Harry thrust for thrust, to squeeze just a little bit harder here and there and bring him some kind of release as he moaned incoherently around the fingers in his mouth. Then the fingers were gone and something wet and cold touched his ass, and suddenly it clicked like that beautiful memory for your first patronus. He moaned, loudly, and his legs fell open, offering Harry all the room he could need as Tom shifted slightly on the couch.

Harry whispered something and Tom realized that the fingers probing at him had gotten slightly more slicker, perhaps Harry had just done that to keep Tom's mouth occupied, or maybe he thought it enjoyable and was imaging Tom's mouth on other appendages of his body, mostly his hard cock that was pressing against Tom's thigh as the boy pushed against one of Harry's fingers.

Begging in the only way he knew how, incoherently, loudly and through whimpers and moans, that he wanted more, and he wanted it now.

Harry looked down at Tom, wondering, forever would he be wondering, how this was Voldemort's past. This sneaky, mischievous, loveable hellion, who was so ridiculously handsome most people considered it a power in and of itself. He drank in the sight of Tom on his back, his leg's spread; his legs wide open, inviting, inviting Harry to take him and own his body like Tom owned Harry's heart.

Then Tom's hands came up and caressed his face and Harry felt his heart skip a beat. The tenderness, the love, something that he had rarely associated with Tom. The boy was loveable and affectionate, but he was never out right loving, yet here. Here it was, and Harry realized that this is where he was supposed to be. He was supposed to be with Tom, because even the cruelest man in history had needed someone to love him, and so Harry would. He worked one finger in and Tom held his breathe, slow, shuttering moans leaving his body as Harry stretched him.

Harry could tell that Tom was pushing himself, and that it hurt, but Harry also knew that eventually, that pain would turn into molten hot desire and pleasure, and Tom's enthusiasm wasn't helping the ridiculously small amount of self control he had left; if there was any at all after the seven long years of sexual tension at Hogwarts.

He slowed his movements down, knowing he was torturing Tom past a point he knew the boy probably couldn't handle, but rather blacked out from pleasure than pain, by the time he had three fingers in, Tom was sweating, and moaning, and incoherent didn't even describe the type of animalistic urgency the younger boy had as he forced his legs to the sides and shoved himself down on Harry's fingers. Gasps and moans happening at once, too loud to contain himself, too loud to catch his breath.

"You sure you want this Tom?"

"What a time to ask, fuck yes,"

"How much?"

"A lot! Fuck, Harry please,"

"How much is a lot, Tom,"

"Anything, Harry, fucking anything, just don't stop,"

Harry moved forward, his lips brushing against Tom's cheek before they were caressing his ear as the man whispered, "So if I wanted to pull you off this couch and drag you to the floor with me, you'd go down on me, and then ride me afterwards once you'd made me wet enough for you?"

Tom couldn't agree or disagree with words, so instead he pushed a very surprised and smug Harry off the couch and onto his back, climbing across his legs to get Harry's hard cock into his mouth, slurping and sucking for all he could as he held the man's hips down, it was messy and hot, and totally wild as Tom thrust against one of Harry's legs, sucking and moaning at the same time, not knowing when to stop, but not willing to either.

Then there were hands in his hair, first rubbing, then grabbing and then painfully there as Harry pulled Tom up to his face, his kisses messy and urgent, tasting himself on Tom's tongue as the boy seated himself on Harry's pelvis, grinding down and waiting, wanting Harry to be in him like his fingers were minutes before, the hollowness was driving him crazy. He wanted Harry.

"Now, fuck now, Harry, please, please, fuck _please_." Tom whispered fiercely, lapsing into parseltongue.

"Have you ever done this with someone else?"

"No, I was saving that for you,"

With those words, Harry went wild, his hands leaving Tom's hair, all his focus going to lining himself up at Tom's entrance, trying not to rush the boy down his length, but fuck it was warm and Tom was so fucking tight, and just those words from Tom's mouth were driving Harry absolutely crazy with a need he'd never experienced before.

Then Tom's ass was seated fully on Harry's pelvis and they were both there, Paradise had been achieved and when Tom set his hands on Harry's chest and bounced up, the older man's eyes rolled back and his head followed soon after, the pleasure coursing through his body almost unbearable.

Harry's eyes opened soon after though, slightly disorientated before he realized that Tom was twining their fingers together and holding Harry's hands down against the bed, eye level to the older boy as Tom rode him hard and fierce, his hands squeezing Harry's so tight, the older boy was sure he'd lose feeling in them soon.

"Do you like it, Harry?" Tom hissed, the sibilant words rolling over Harry in a way he couldn't have imagined, he would never be able to talk to the boy in parseltongue again.

"Yes...yes, Tom,"

"No one's ever going to touch you besides me,"

"Obviously,"

"Say it, Harry," Tom said with a harsh thrust, grinding himself down on the older boy, watching as Harry lost his breath and his eyes went unfocused.

"No one else is ever going to touch me, Tom," Harry panted.

"You're mine."

"You're mine, Tom,"

"Yea, I am," the boy answered softly, and Harry could feel a slight pressure where their hands were interlocked. He squeezed back and answered,

"I'm yours, Tom...now ride me like you actually want it," Harry said with a smirk. He moved his hands out of Tom's hold and rested them on the younger boy's hips, pushing down harshly as he thrust his hips up.

Tom leaned forward, and it wasn't long before Harry had his feet planted on the bed for leverage as he thrust harshly into the younger boy while Tom slammed down on him.

Then Harry's hand was around Tom's dick, pulling and rubbing and doing things to Tom he didn't know where possible before he was coming on their stomachs, sweat mingling with cum as Tom tried to keep up with Harry, tried to give him as much pleasure at the older boy had given him, and when Harry tensed up and choked out Tom's name, the Slytherin knew he'd succeeded.

Things went on normally after that, but it was weird and at the same time natural that things just turned sexual. Having a relationship with Tom was just as easy as it had been before the sex, which was surreal, because Harry had thought it would have gotten really awkward really quickly.

It seemed he'd been missing a lot though, because now he recognized the glances Tom threw him, or the way he licked his lips, the way Harry could tell that all Tom really wanted to do most of the time was kiss Harry until he quieted.

It all had that type of surrealness. Like it was happening but it wasn't. It was almost like Harry fell asleep that night and didn't wake up again. Tom was loving and affectionate and there. Constantly. He ignored all contact from his friends, just burning letters or throwing them away without a second glance. It was so hot and cold. Like Tom had kicked one bad habit just to start a new one.

He went from being enraptured by the Slytherins to being enraptured by Harry. Going from ignoring his love to ignoring what had separated them, however briefly. It was so manipulative and precise Harry realized how this man could be Voldemort. How he was well on his way, but love made people do stupid things, and even though Harry would stand by Tom almost through anything, it made him put his guard down. Tom was all he saw.

And in this time, that's all he really needed. He still received letters from Grindelwald but taking a note from Tom's book, he just burned the letters. Not really caring what the dark lord had to say. Tom was in his grasp now, and as long as that was so Gellert really didn't have a place. Especially not between him and Tom.

Touches were bold, kisses were fleeting, and it was passionate. Harry hadn't realized Tom could do Passion. But there was a lot of take out nights that occurred because the younger boy would decide to jump Harry in the kitchen. Harry's birthday came and went and he hadn't realized sex could get any better until it had.

But then the foreboding came, Hogwarts started soon. They could continue their behavior, but the familiarity and sensuality between them couldn't be denied. It was going to be hard. To fake not wanting to hug Tom or kiss him or give him detention just so they could fulfill some of the dirty fantasies Tom liked to distract him with right before sex. To get the arousal going. It would be hard, Harry knew that, but he was going to try and appear as normal as possible even though he and Tom were anything but.

* * *

The first day back was horrible, being able to look but not touch all day. To realize how annoyed Tom was with his former friends as they hounded him for information, especially Arcturus who looked like a wounded puppy. Harry knew the mutt had vicious teeth though.

He was expecting Tom for dinner the first day after the sorting, but he didn't turn up until late.

* * *

For Tom, it was really weird to go from having all these people in his life, practically worshipping the ground he walked on, which he really did want to continue occurring in his life. To have everyone asking for his advice, regarding him with respect, in envy of his power, like the Slytherins did, like Gellert's people did.

To having everyone that had been so up his ass to now be giving him the cold shoulder, to show respect to him but also distain. He realized he was being labeled a traitor amoung his former acquaintances, but that was all right, because one day, they'd all be back under him again, so it didn't really matter.

But, for now, Harry was more important, Harry had been there from day one and Harry was finally giving him what he wanted and he wouldn't give that up for the world right now. Not even for his dream, well, actually he would, but he knew he could achieve his dream at a different time and Harry was in the here and now. And because of that, he was going to do something to protect what he had, to prove to the one man that doubted him since the day they'd met that he wasn't as big of a lost, evil cause as Dumbledore thought he was. Even, if he didn't believe Tom, the younger would stick it out, whether he had something to prove or not, because that's just what Harry did to him.

He made him stupid.

* * *

Dumbledore looked up as someone knocked at his door, he beckoned them in and was surprised to see Tom Riddle come through his double doors; he set aside his work and offered the younger man a benign smile.

"My dear boy, how can I help you?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Professor Dumbledore, but Harry and I thought I should share with you something I got caught in the middle of."

Dumbledore's thoughts took off on their own accord, his first conclusion that this was going to be a trap, but he humoured the younger man.

"What would that be, exactly, Mister Riddle?"

"Grindlewald, sir, he's obsessed with my guardian and I'm afraid that I got in with the wrong sort, but I want to help now, I want to be able to help stop that man from terrorizing people."

"Tell me more, Mister Riddle," Dumbledore implored as he leaned back and stroked his fiery beard.

Perhaps, as well as Mr. Riddle could manipulate others, he was just as easily in their position when it came to his guardian.

This, this was the chance Dumbledore needed to figure out who this Harry Potter was. The man who had appeared out of nowhere and taken the wizarding world by storm, quietly, but powerfully. There were very few people who did not know who the green-eyed man was by name. Not many people knew much more, besides Tom, that is, and here the boy was, willingly walking into his office to offer information.

Of course, Tom thought it was a different kind then Dumbledore intended to get from him.


End file.
